
Class „TX-.£.-a_s. 

hokJ\ C9 

Copyright W. 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



I 



i 




LATE XXVI. — A. Half a box of codfish teas cut up. B. Whil 
Polly turned an egg-beater. 



■~4 



THE MAKING OF A 
HOUSEWIFE 



<^i- 



V"^' 



t'\ 



>^- 



Copyright, 1904, 1905 
By The Butterick Pubushing Company, Limited 

Copyright, 1906 
By Frederick A. Stokes Company 

Published in November, 1906 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 

Tw« Copies Received 

NOV 19 1906 

, Copyrljcht Entry 
CLASS A.XXC., No. 
COPY B. 



THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A, 



To 
MARGARET POLSON MURRAY 

To whom I am indebted for my Jirst interest in 

housewifery and appreciation of the 

dignity of household labor 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

I. A Flood and an Introduction .... 1 
II. Various Economies and a Menu Sug- 

GESTER 16 

III. A Lesson at the Meat Market ... 31 

IV. Planning a Week's Work, and Wash- 

DAy 45 

V. Gas Stove and Refrigerator Knowledge 59 

VI. A Lesson on Canning Fruit .... 73 

VII. Hot Weather Health and Comfort . 86 

VIII. Co-operative Housekeeping at the Sea- 
shore 101 

IX. Housecleaning Begins 116 

X. Laying in the Winter's Food Supply . 128 

XI. Margaret's Thanksgiving Dinner . . 142 

XII. The Christmas Gifts of a Cook . . . 156 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PLATE PAGE 

XXVI. A. Half a box of codfish was cut up. B. WhUe 

Polly turned an egg-beater Frontispiece 

I. A. Never set the sink against an outer wall. B. 
Cookbooks won't teach everything there is to learn 
about bread 8 

II. A. Set the loaves to cool on a wire stand. B. Knead 

dough as you would dance 14 

III. A. Shredding cabbage, B. I grate corn on it. C. 

A kitchen window conservatory, parsley and chives 20 

IV. A. I have a quiet Uttle den in the third story. B. 

A menu suggester 26 

V. A. It actually smeUs clean. B. The lower part of 

the round 34 

VI. A. The chuck roast. B. The sirloin 38 

VII. A. A braised tongue. B. Lamb chops 42 

VIII. It is as essential to hang clothes properly as to wash 

them right 50 

IX. A. A clothespin apron bag. B. An emery board. 

C. The best clothes horse 54 

X. A. Take furs outdoors and beat them. B. Get pans 

which fit into your oven 60 

XI. A. A gas stove toaster. B. A gas stove waffle iron. 
C. The small oven bakes beans to perfection. D. 
A contrivance for heating irons on the gas stove 66 

XII. A. The butter had a decidedly fishy flavor. B, 

Norah cleans our refrigerator once a week ... 70 



X ILLUSTRATIONS 

PLATE PAGE 

XIII. A. A row of water-filled cans upside down. B. 

The fruits of a summer in jars. C. Utensils re- 
quired at preserving time 74 

XIV. A. A bottle ready to fill with hot fruit. B. A rack 

for the hot kettle 80 

XV. A. This is all the science there is about canning 

fruit. B, Let a jelly bag drip over night . . 84 

XVI. A, The rush of cold water cooled walls and windows. 

B. Never leave the garbage can uncovered . . 88 

XVII. A. Musk melon daintily served. B. A pitcher of 

iced coffee 92 

XVIII. A. The treat of such a breakfast. B. Transform 

your piazza into an outdoor sitting-room ... 98 

XIX. A. Clams for one. B. Fish and eels were to be 

had for patience and bait 108 

XX. A. The children sat on the piazza husking corn. 

B. There were such picnics in the woods . , 112 

XXI. A. Grandma can sew the rags for a carpet in two 

weeks. B. These shelves hold piles of magazines 116 

XXII. Here I have my tool corner 120 

XXIII. A. Raymond puts in screen doors and window 

screens. B. Wear gymnasium slippers when 
house cleaning 122 

XXIV. Use a weighted brush for polished floors .... 126 

XXV. A. One afternoon Margaret helped her friend darn 

stockings. B. Meat chopper grinding crumbs . 130 

XXVII. A. Something new in a crust. B. She had found 

an old-fashioned recipe for pumpkin-pie . . . 146 

XXVIII. A. Margaret singed the turkey over a saucer of 
burning alcohol. B. The chicken was cut in 
twelve pieces 150 



ILLUSTRATIONS xi 

PLATE PAGE 

XXIX. A. The skin of the neck folded back, the wings 
tucked in and the legs folded close to the side. 
B. A low buffet held the dishes for the later 
courses 154 

XXX. A. Moulding cloth and rolling-pin cover. B. Lady 
locks, pat^s and a pie form. C. Utensils nec- 
essary when making fondant 160 

XXXI. A. Pastry bag and icing. B. Plum pudding with 
garnish of lump sugar. C. Bonbons on a crystal 
plate 164 

XXXII. A. Dipping candies in chocolate. B. Bits of holly 

went on every gift 168 



THE 

MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 



A FLOOD AND AN INTRODUCTION 

"Mother! Mother! Mother! Come quick!" 
shrieked a child's voice. 

Mrs. Griswold was mixing bread, but she 
dropped her spoon and ran to the back door. 

" Where 's Polly, Norah? " she cried. 

" The last I saw of her she was goin' into 
Mrs. Kerr's," answered a tall, sturdy girl who 
was mopping the entry floor. 

" There she is now," cried the mother. 
" What can have happened? She 's soaked 
to the very skin." 

Mrs. Griswold ran bareheaded across the 
snowy yard. 

" Come quick, mother," screamed Polly 
again; "there's a flood coming down Mrs. 
Kerr's stairs." 



2 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

She pushed past the dripping child into the 
kitchen, and was greeted by a young woman, 
who wrung her hands desperately. Water ran 
in streams from her clothing and hair; her 
face was white with terror. 

" Oh," she cried, " thank you for coming. 
Everything upstairs is burst. See." 

Mrs. Griswold followed when she dashed 
through the hall. A small cataract came roar- 
ing down the front stairs. It was already 
flooding the dining-room and parlor. 

"Pick up the rugs, quick!" cried Mrs. 
Griswold. " 1 11 run down cellar and turn the 
water off. Give me a pair of rubbers." 

Mrs. Kerr tossed her a pair, then she tore 
the wet rugs from the floor and threw them 
out on the snowy piazza. Mrs. Griswold, kilt- 
ing her skirts above her ankles, waded through 
the flooded cellar searching for the place where 
the water turned ofl* at the main. When she 
came up, the Niagara on the stairs had been 
reduced to a trickle. 

"Are the pipes frozen here?" she asked, 
turning to the kitchen sink. 



INTRODUCTION 3 

" Everything 's frozen all over the house," 
answered Mrs. Kerr, with a shiver. 

" And a big fire roaring in the kitchen 
stove," the neighbor cried. She seized a 
shaker and dumped the red coals into the 
ash-pan. 

" I built the fire half an hour ago to thaw 
things out." 

" My dear, it 's a miracle you were n't blown 
to pieces. The boiler and the water-pipes are 
frozen sohd. As soon as ice begins to melt, 
steam is generated, and there would have been 
an explosion. I guess nothing saved you ex- 
cept that the ice being so thick did not easily 
thaw. Now, come home with me ; we '11 leave 
the house to look out for itself while I get you 
and Polly dried and warm. You '11 both have 
pneumonia unless you are taken care of." 

This was Mrs. Griswold's introduction to 
the pretty young bride who had moved in as 
a next-door neighbor a month ago. Mrs. 
Griswold had gone, a few days after the 
Kerrs arrived in town, to visit her father. 
Every letter from home told of a friendship 



4 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

between the new neighbor and her little daugh- 
ter Polly. Already she had listened to one of 
Polly's fervent outbursts of admiration, and 
promised the little girl to call upon her new 
friend. So the episode of a flooded house 
proved their introduction. They laughed over 
it half an hour later, while they sat around a 
crackling wood fire in the Griswolds' sitting- 
room. Mrs. Kerr had suggested going home 
as soon as she donned dry clothes. 

" You must n't, my dear," said her motherly 
neighbor. " There is nothing you can do. 
Norah has gone with a pail of hot water and 
a mop to wipe up the worst puddles, and bring 
things here to dry. I 've telephoned all over 
town for a plumber. Nobody can come right 
away ; pipes are burst everywhere ; there is n't 
an idle plumber in town. Smith and Whit- 
comb have promised to send a man as soon 
as they can. Till he arrives you can have no 
fire there, and you would catch your death of 
cold. Mr. Kerr will be home presently. He 
will build a fire in your furnace. When the 
house warms up and dries you can go back." 



INTRODUCTION 5 

" You 're very kind," said Margaret. " If 
you had not appeared the water would still 
be pouring down the stairs." She laughed 
nervously. 

" Tell me how it happened." 

" Robert had a week's vacation, so we went 
to New York for Christmas. We returned 
this morning. Rob had to hurry to the office. 
I built a fire when I got in; the house was 
so deathly cold I could n't work. Pipes were 
frozen in the cellar and kitchen. Not a tap 
would turn in the bathroom; everything was 
frozen there. Then Polly came. She brought 
a pail of water from your house. When it 
boiled I took it upstairs, and stood on a chair 
to pour it into the small tank against the bath- 
room wall. I had just emptied the kettle when 
I heard a crack Hke a pistol shot. I think I 
was knocked off the chair by a rush of water 
from somewhere. It felt as if a hose had been 
turned in my face. I heard Polly shriek ; the 
torrent of water struck her. I grabbed towels 
and tried to tie them round the leak in the 
pipes. It was no use; there was a hole there 



6 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

I could have put my hand in. Before I left 
the bathroom, water was rushing from the 
pipes in the tub and under the basin. I 
suppose it was because I poured in boiling 
water." 

" Yes, that was the reason," said Mrs. 
Griswold. 

" Why should it make the pipes burst? " 

" When ice melts there is a quick expansion. 
This newly generated force has nowhere to 
go, the pipes are as full of ice as they can 
hold, so it blows a hole. I have watched a 
plumber melt frozen pipes. He hghts a blaze 
of kerosene gas in a tiny lamp and sets it 
blowing all around a frozen pipe, moving it 
constantly up and down its whole length, so 
there is no sudden application of heat to any 
one spot. When our pipes freeze, Norah and 
I thaw them out with cloths wrung from hot 
water, wrapped around bandage fashion. The 
best way, however, is not to have pipes freeze." 

" How can one help it when the thermom- 
eter stays below zero, as it has done for two 
or three days? " 



INTRODUCTION 7 

" Turn off the water at night when the fur- 
nace fire dies down and a chill enters the house. 
Come to our cellar. It is planned exactly like 
yours." 

Mrs. Griswold pointed to a row of stop- 
cocks just below the kitchen floor. Tacked 
beside each one was a card. They read: 
" Attic," " Bathroom," " Kitchen." 

" These cocks," she said, " are now level with 
the floor, because the water is on everywhere 
in the house. If you should wish to shut it 
ofl*, simply turn the cocks down, then run the 
water out of the pipes. A trickle from the 
stop-cock shows the pipe is completely emptied. 
If you were going away in the winter, and 
there was danger of the thermometer drop- 
ping below zero, turn it ofl" at the main." 

"What is the main?" Margaret asked. 

Her neighbor led the way to a square hole 
in the concrete floor, where a handle seemed to 
come out of the ground. 

" This is what I turned in your house when 
I stopped the flood," she said. " It cuts ofi^ 
the supply of water from the entire house. 



8 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

Of course, after turning this jou must empty 
the pipes, also the kitchen boiler. The easiest 
way to empty it is to attach a hose to its tap 
and allow the water to run into the kitchen 
sink. This job we do twice a year to clean 
the tank. You would realize how it needs 
cleaning if you could see what Norah calls 
' the emptyin's.' " 

" The man who planned your house," said 
Mrs. Griswold, when they returned to the 
kitchen, " perpetrated the mistake which is 
being made by architects all over the country. 
He set the sink against an outer wall of the 
house. The consequence is that every cold 
snap freezes the water. We incurred four 
or five plumbers' bills one winter for frozen 
pipes; then we had the sink taken down and 
the wall behind it stuffed with asbestos. That 
helped a little ; still, every cold night our only 
safeguard was to turn the water off." 

" It is n't on an outer wall here," said Mrs. 
Kerr. 

" No, indeed, although when we built this 
house, an architect planned a sink in the con- 




)LATE I. — A. Never set the sink against an outer wall. B. Cook- 
books won't teach everything there is to learn about bread. 



INTRODUCTION 9 

ventional place. I had a fight to have it 
changed; he said he couldn't find space for 
the stove or doors. I told him if we ever built 
another house I would have a woman archi- 
tect draw the plans. Oh, dear, I had com- 
pletely forgotten my bread." 

" That is my fault," said Margaret, apolo- 
getically. 

" It is not spoiled. I had not added the 
yeast. Do you mind sitting here while I mix 
it?" 

" No, indeed. May I watch you? " 

*' Certainly, and ask any questions you wish, 
if you want to learn about bread-making." 

"I do," said the young wife, earnestly. " I 
am trying all alone to puzzle things out in 
cook-books. It is n't easy when you have 
never seen anybody do the work." 

" You are just learning to be a housekeeper, 
then? " said Mrs. Griswold, kindly. 

" Yes, just learning. My home since child- 
hood was with my grandmother in a big city 
hotel, except when I went to boarding-school 
and college. I don't believe I had been inside 



10 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

two kitchens in my life till I entered my 
own." 

" You must let me help you," said Mrs. 
Griswold, heartily. " Polly says you 're the 
neighborliest neighbor we ever had. You must 
let me be the neighborliest neighbor to you." 

" Thank you so much. May I ask you 
questions about bread? I Ve read cook-books, 
but — " 

" Cook-books won't teach you everything 
there is to learn about bread. I 'm convinced 
of that. The author of a cook-book knows the 
science of yeast's leavening labor; she knows 
flours as well as a miller does ; she has arrived 
at her knowledge of bread-making by years of 
experience and a multitude of by-ways which 
could not be put into a hundred-page volume. 
She boils down this knowledge into a recipe 
and directions which we follow time after time, 
making better bread each day, and puzzling 
out for ourselves the things the author of the 
cook-book could not tell us." 

" Did you ever have a bread failure? " asked 
Margaret. 



INTRODUCTION 11 

" Many and many a failure. I shall never 
forget one which happened when I was young 
and inexperienced, as you are. We had gone 
to housekeeping in a Httle flat at the top of a 
big apartment house. I set bread one day, but 
I had not patience to allow it to rise. I im- 
agined the yeast was poor, so before I went 
to bed I added another yeast-cake, kneaded it, 
and set it in the pantry window. It was very 
hot weather, I remember. Early next morn- 
ing the janitor came to ask what was drip- 
ping from our window. Down the red brick 
wall — five stories down — trickled a stream 
of bubbhng white dough. My bread-pan held 
nothing but a few dough balloons. I remem- 
ber my husband paid the janitor two dollars 
to scrape off the mess. 

" But to the real practical side of bread- 
making. I began this dough by putting four 
tablespoonfuls of lard, two tablespoonfuls of 
sugar, and one tablespoonful of salt in the 
bread-pan; then I poured over it one quart 
of hot water. A yeast-cake I dropped in half 
a cupful of tepid water and left to dissolve. 



12 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

When the water in the bread-pan became luke- 
warm, I added five cupfuls of sifted bread 
flour and the yeast; then I beat it hard with 
a wire whisk, which mixes the flour and hquid 
perfectly. I added more flour till I had a 
spongy dough, which I turned out on the 
moulding-board and kneaded. Fifteen minutes 
is none too long to knead. Satiny smoothness 
and elasticity, such as the dough begins to 
show now, are signs of good bread. 

" Notice how I am kneading out all the bub- 
bles that appear ; if I did n't, there would be 
holes in the bread. It is kneaded sufficiently, 
so I will wash the bread-pan, dry it, and grease 
it, even inside the lid. This prevents the dough 
from sticking when it has risen. If this were 
a warm day I should set the bread-pan out- 
doors and allow the sun to raise it. Being 
below zero, I will fill the dish-pan with hot 
water and set in the bread-pan, keeping up the 
temperature by occasionally adding hot water 
till the dough fills the pan. I do not believe 
in setting bread overnight. In the summer 
it is apt to sour; in the winter it may be 



INTRODUCTION 13 

chilled. When I set it early in the morning 
it is ready to bake before six o'clock. About 
two o'clock this bread will be ready to mould. 
I will turn it out on the floured moulding-board 
and knead again, this time slightly, but till 
every bubble disappears. Then I will put it 
in buttered bread-pans, having each one about 
half full, cover it, set in a warm place, and 
allow it to rise till it doubles its bulk. Then 
it goes in a hot oven, which is gradually mod- 
erated. Loaves of this size take about an hour 
to bake. When they come from the oven, set 
them on a wire stand to cool, and brush the 
top of each loaf with melted butter, to give a 
tender, delicious crust." 

" You added more flour," said Margaret, 
" after you had mixed a thin dough. Did you 
measure it? " 

" There is a point where no more flour 
ought to go in, but I cannot give exact meas- 
urements. The wetting capacities of difl'er- 
ent flours vary. I tell by touch. When the 
dough ceases to be sticky, when it has a 
springy feeling, turn it out and knead. 



14 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

Knead, as you would dance, with a light, 
supple, dexterous touch." 

" Does n't good bread depend greatly on the 
quality of yeast? " 

" Yes, indeed; I have given yeasts of every 
sort a fair trial, but now I pin my faith to 
compressed yeast. The stale cakes are re- 
placed in the grocery every day by fresh ones, 
and unless the yeast germ is killed by water 
that is too hot it is bound to make good bread. 
Invariably use bread flour when yeast is the 
raising power. Baking powder acts with fairly 
good results on bread flour, but combined with 
yeast, it will produce a sickly looking loaf. 
The wetting may be all water, as I used in 
this dough, or half milk and half water; or, 
if you wish a very fine-grained, spongy white 
loaf, wet with all milk, only it should be 
fresh milk. Any liquid you use should be as 
warm as new milk. One difficulty in bread- 
making is to know when loaves are ' just 
right ' to bake. I tell by ' hefting ' them, as 
a country cook would say. All at once the 
panful of dough seems to have lost its heavi- 




)LATE II. — A. Set the loaves to cool on a ivire stand. B. Kne 
dough as you would dance. 



fr 



INTRODUCTION 15 

ness. Then — directly — pop it into the hot 
oven. 

" There is an art for keeping bread after 
it has been made. Never wrap it in a cloth 
when it comes hot from the oven. That shuts 
in the steam and spoils the loaf. Store it in 
a large earthen crock with a tight cover, — a 
crock that is washed and sunned every time it 
gets empty. Ah! here comes the plumber. 
Now you wiU be aU right." 



II 

VARIOUS ECONOMIES AND A MENU SUGGESTER 

One morning when Mrs. Griswold crossed 
the yard for a neighborly visit she found the 
young housewife wearing a worried look. 

" It is n't poor bread again, is it? " asked the 
elder woman, cheerfully. 

" No, indeed," said Margaret. " I baked 
bread this morning which was above reproach." 
She led the way to a desk in the sitting-room, 
where a housekeeper's ledger lay open with 
bills scattered around it. 

" I fancied columns of figures would be no 
trouble to an accomplished mathematician like 
you;" and Mrs. Griswold smiled. 

"It isn't that; I simply can't keep our 
expenses within our income." 

" Perhaps I can help you." 

" Robert earns twenty dollars a week, but 
it seems to go nowhere. Every month I 've 



VARIOUS ECONOMIES 17 

been drawing on a little money I have in the 
bank." 

" My dear child, you do need guidance," 
said Mrs. Griswold; " would you mind show- 
ing me where the money goes?" 

Margaret handed her the open ledger. " It 
seems to go simply on things to eat. Our table 
bill last week was fifteen dollars." 

" That is too much. There are six in our 
family, and I set a good table on ten dollars. 
Frequently it is less, but it never exceeds ten. 
May I glance over expenditures?" 

" Certainly. I '11 be so glad if you will tell 
me where I can economize." 

Mrs. Griswold turned over the pages 
thoughtfully. 

" You 've been buying things that are out 
of season and very expensive," she said, slowly. 
" In February shad is scarcely within an every- 
day income. It comes from Southern waters 
and is scarce and dear. There are plenty of 
good, cheap fish in the market, — cod, had- 
dock, halibut, smelts, and striped bass, for 
instance. Cucumbers and tomatoes are hot- 



18 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

house luxuries now. I even hesitate at pay- 
ing fifteen or twenty cents for a lettuce at 
this time of the year. I don't feel I am get- 
ting the worth of my money. All winter long 
there are such good root vegetables, — carrots, 
parsnips, turnips, and beets, with, of course, 
white and sweet potatoes. Besides, there are 
brussels sprouts, cabbage, celery, onions, kale, 
squash, and spinach; then canned vegetables 
— corn, tomatoes, peas, and string beans — 
are very good and cheap." 

" None of these, except celery, can be used 
for salads." 

" I must introduce you to some of our winter 
salads. One favorite is greening apples sliced 
thin, with chopped celery and hickory nuts. 
Over it put a boiled dressing made light by 
whipped cream, and you have a delicious salad. 
If you wish to have this salad put on a com- 
pany appearance, cut the celery into dice and 
heap in a glass dish; on it set small apples 
which look whole but which have been cored, 
pared, and cut into thin wafers. Fill the 
cores with mayonnaise, and into each tuck 



VARIOUS ECONOMIES 19 

a blanched top of celery. Nothing is nicer 
than chilled brussels sprouts with a French 
dressing. You may also have cold slaw or a 
regular cabbage salad." 

" I cannot shred cabbage fine, no matter 
how hard I try." 

" You must have a vegetable cutter. It 
costs only ten cents. It can be used to shave 
cabbage or to slice cucumbers or apples for 
a salad. I grate corn on it for succotash or 
fritters. Occasionally, during the winter, en- 
dive or chicory may be found at a reasonable 
price. They make delicious salads with a 
sprinkling of chives and a French dressing. 
By the way, when you are lucky enough to 
find a bunch of chives in the market, carry it 
home and put it in a pot of earth." 

" I never heard of it," said Margaret. 

" Few American housewives know its value. 
English and French cooks do, I assure you. 
It will keep verdant aU winter in a sunny 
window, as parsley does. At a first glance 
you might imagine it was grass, but each tiny 
blade is a tube, like an onion top. Chives, 



20 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

although more dehcate, belong to the onion 
family. A tablespoonful chopped fine is a 
dehcious addition to a potato, lettuce, or en- 
dive salad; it also gives a pleasant taste to 
soups or hashed brown potatoes. As soon as 
it is cut it springs up again. One bunch of 
chives, well watered, will give you a winter's 
flavoring. 

" But to go back to our salads. Celery by 
itself, with a mayonnaise, is delicious, or it may 
be mixed with shredded cabbage; then there 
is cold spinach, with a French dressing. If 
you get a good brand of canned tomatoes, in 
which the vegetable remains whole, drain off 
the liquid, then chill, and serve with mayon- 
naise. You will be surprised at how much it 
tastes hke the fresh vegetable. Canned string 
beans or peas drained from their liquor make 
good winter salads, and nothing is nicer than 
a mayonnaise poured over the delicious canned 
product we call ' baby beets ' at our house." 

" I never imagined so many salads could be 
found in the winter." 

" French dressing or mayonnaise will con- 




iLATE III. — A. Shredding cabbage. B. I grate corn on it. 
C. A kitchen window conservatory, parsley and chives. 



VARIOUS ECONOMIES 21 

vert many vegetable left-overs into delicious 
salads. Now, I am going to talk to you like 
a mother about your meat bill. My dear girl, 
chickens at $1.50 a pair, sweetbreads at 75 
cents a pair, lobsters at 25 cents a pound, beef- 
steak and roast beef at 30 cents a pound, are 
fearfully extravagant." 

" There are so few things in the meat market 
small enough for two people." 

" Wait till I take you marketing with me. 
Then in three weeks you have bought four 
pounds of lard, a quart of frying oil, and 
eight pounds of butter. That is more fats 
than you require." 

" It takes so much to saute potatoes and fish 
and chicken; then we had fried oysters and 
croquettes, and we often have French fried 
potatoes." 

" You have used considerable bacon, sau- 
sage, ham, and roast beef; that ought to 
afford considerable drippings." 

"Do you mean the fat left in the pan after 
frying? I never keep that; is it good for 
anything? " 



22 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" I have taught Norah to save every particle 
of drippings from a roast meat, and all the 
fat that rises on top of soup stock or liquor 
that meat has been cooked in. When a plate- 
ful accumulates, I cut the solid pieces in the 
meat-chopper, put it in a pan with enough 
cold water to cover it, and set in the oven till 
reduced. It might be done on top of the 
stove, only it makes a disagreeable odor, and 
splutters. When the water has evaporated I 
run the fat through a cheese-cloth laid over 
a strainer. Fat keeps better undisturbed; 
therefore, I pour it into several small jars 
and set them where it is cold. I never use 
butter for sauteing; it is not as good as drip- 
pings. We generally have on hand one or 
two quarts of such drippings. A pail of it 
is kept clarified for frying. We use the con- 
tents of the smaller jars for sauteing." 

" How do you clarify fat? " 

" When it becomes dark from frequent 
using, melt it, and add a few slices of raw 
potato. Let it heat till it ceases to bubble. 
The potato will absorb most of the impurities. 



VARIOUS ECONOMIES 23 

Strain it through cheese-cloth and let it stand 
till solid. Now, to return to our account- 
book, cream seems to get away with consider- 
able money." 

*' It 's so expensive," sighed the young 
housewife. " It costs three dollars a month, 
yet we 've got to have it for coffee and 
cereals." 

" A bottle of cream is an occasional luxury 
with us," said Mrs. Griswold. " I get plenty 
of good cream for the breakfast coffee by 
setting milk over night." 

" No cream rises on the milk we get." 

"Do you give it a fair chance? Perhaps 
you keep it too cold. Milk requires a fairly 
warm temperature to make cream rise. As 
soon as it arrives pour it into a shallow pan 
and set it in the pantry cupboard, where it is 
not so cold as the refrigerator shelves. Lay 
a plate over the milk to prevent it absorbing 
any stray odor or flavor; besides, the cream 
will skin if uncovered. Keep two milk-pans 
on hand, one to be emptied and thoroughly 
scalded each morning while the other is full. 



24 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

The skimmed milk left after creaming is 
just what you want for puddings, custards, 
sauces, and soups, for creamed dishes or for 
baking. Six cents' worth of milk ought to 
provide all you require of cream as well as 
milk." 

" I wish you would tell me of something 
for breakfast instead of beefsteak and eggs," 
begged Mrs. Kerr. " They cost terribly, yet 
we want something good; we're not toast- 
and-coffee people." 

" There are such a lot of things," said Mrs. 
Griswold, " none of which costs like eggs and 
sirloin steak. Eggs are 50 cents a dozen at 
present. Some of our breakfast dishes are 
frizzled beef in cream, codfish-balls, cream 
toast, beans with brown-bread, corned-beef 
hash, meat-cakes, minced lamb on toast, 
creamed codfish, sausages, hamburg steak, 
broiled kidneys, liver and bacon, pork chops, 
broiled salt mackerel, fried oysters, corn frit- 
ters, and fried smelts; indeed, a small portion 
of any sort of fish is less expensive than beef- 
steak or eggs in midwinter." 



VARIOUS ECONOMIES 25 

*' That sounds like a hotel bill-of-fare." 

" StiU, variety costs no more than getting 
into a rut, as some housewives do, and it makes 
the table much more appetizing." 

" Planning meals takes so much time," ob- 
jected Margaret. 

" I have a quiet little den in the third story 
where every afternoon I give an hour's study 
to household affairs. On a table are scattered 
my household magazines, which are helpful 
and suggestive. On the shelf above my desk 
stands a row of cook-books, and two or three 
volumes on dietetics. I have my book of 
household expenditure in one pigeonhole, in 
another a file of envelopes containing things 
I clip about housekeeping, health, or enter- 
taining. The contents of these envelopes are 
written on the lower right-hand corner of the 
envelope, so I can find in a second what I 
want. The subjects range from 'Photo- 
graphed Dishes ' to ' Gas- Stove Cookery.' 
The fifty or sixty envelopes are arranged 
alphabetically, so I can find what I wish in 
a second. Here I make up my marketing list 



26 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

for the next morning, arrange menus for the 
coming meals, and then I study." 

" What do you study? " asked Margaret, 
curiously. 

" How to keep a family healthy and com- 
fortable. A teacher gives at least an hour a 
day to pedagogy, the artist and musician give 
half their waking hours to an art; certainly 
the well-being and happiness of a household 
are of equal importance. You never could 
imagine how much I have learned in one hour 
a day. I remember, years ago, I had poor 
luck with bread. Sometimes it was good, 
sometimes it was n't. I took up the study of 
yeast and flour; I learned every process that 
takes place in bread, from the time the flour 
is wet till it comes from the oven, and pres- 
ently I was able to lay my finger on poor 
flour or unreliable yeast, or any mistake made 
in mixing, in raising, or baking. Now we have 
excellent bread. I cannot drum much science 
into Norah's head, but I have taught her every 
step of the bread-making process as it ought 
to be done. Another subject I mastered in the 




TDLATE IV. — A. I have a quiet little den in the third story. B. A 
-*- menu svyyester. 






M 



VARIOUS ECONOMIES 27 

quiet of my den was the meaning of a per- 
fect diet. 

" Years ago, carbohydrates, proteids, calo- 
ries, and such terms, represented nothing to 
me. I was aroused one day by a lecture on 
how largely the health and happiness of a 
family lies in the hands of the cook and the 
menu-maker. I learned that a most appetiz- 
ing meal might be anything -but a well-pro- 
portioned one. I realized that only that noon 
I had set before my family an undue amount 
of starchy food in the shape of potatoes and 
macaroni accompanying a meat course, topped 
off with rice-pudding. To-day I give study 
to the menu of even a light luncheon, and I 
have the satisfaction of seeing a constant im- 
provement in the health of our family. So 
much depends upon digestion, and digestion 
is more easily performed with correct food 
combinations. 

" I think " — Mrs. Griswold's voice grew 
serious — "no woman ought to begin house- 
keeping until she has acquired some knowl- 
edge of dietetics. The other evening our 



28 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

doctor was talking of badly planned meals 
and poorly cooked food. He spoke of one of 
his patients whose stomach is wholly at the 
mercy of an ignorant cook. His wife is a 
society butterfly. If she attended to her home 
it would be of little avail, — she knows less 
than her servants do about food or how to 
cook it. Dr. Grey said he had been doctoring 
this man for indigestion, but he seemed to get 
no better. The doctor dropped in there one 
day just before dinner, purposely. He was 
invited to stay. They had a fine beefsteak, 
which had, been fried to a leathery crisp. 
While they chatted his patient bolted mouth- 
fuls of this indigestible stuff — half chewed. 
Dr. Grey's talk to him is worth repeating. 
He said: 'If you had a half -dead fire and 
wanted to bring it back to life you would n't 
toss in a heavy log and expect the flames to 
devour it. You would split the log into fine 
kindlings; then you would have a blaze and 
the kindlings would be quickly consumed. 
There 's a log of wood now instead of kind- 
lings in your stomach, and as for fire, there 



VARIOUS ECONOMIES 29 

is no hope of kindling it.' Step by step I have 
studied sanitation, something of chemistry, 
food-products, drainage, ventilation, and sub- 
jects I might have taken up in youth if my 
education had been broader." 

" They are of more avail than if you had 
studied them in your girlhood," said Margaret. 

" Yes, that is true, because now I put my 
study into everyday practice ; then I could not 
have done it. Before I say good-by I must 
not forget to teU you about what I caU my 
menu-suggester. It is made of six or eight 
sheets of thin card tied together. The outside 
card bears a heading, ' Breakfast.' Under 
it goes a list of breakfast breads, popovers, 
waffles, muffins of every sort, corn-bread, and 
griddle-cakes. Opposite each line goes a nu- 
meral, — 1, 2, or 0. That stands for the 
number of eggs required in the recipe; for 
sometimes the egg-basket is flush, sometimes 
it is empty. On the next page are listed such 
dishes as I mentioned to you, which may be 
used as the basis of a breakfast. Then comes 
a luncheon card bearing a variety of savory 



30 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

dishes, many of them a toothsome and eco- 
nomical reserving of left-overs of meat, fish, 
or poultry. There are five dinner cards. One 
enumerates favorite soups in our household, 
from a consomme to clam-chowder; the next 
is a list of meats and ways for cooking them; 
another has vegetables served in many ways; 
then salads and desserts. Each card holds fifty 
or sixty dishes." 



Ill 

A LESSON AT THE MEAT MARKET 

One spring-like morning Margaret Kerr 
opened the back door in answer to a knock. 

Outside stood Mrs. Griswold with a large 
basket on her arm. 

" I 'm on my way to market. Can't you 
go with me? " 

" I have n't washed the dishes or done 
my morning's work," answered Margaret, 
regretfully. 

" Leave everything," advised her neighbor. 
" Toss back the bedclothes and open the win- 
dows. The walk will do you good; besides, 
you may learn something." 

" I '11 come," said the young woman, eagerly. 

" Have you a market basket? " 

" Yes," Mrs. Kerr hesitated, " but it is such 
a clumsy affair. Blank will send home every- 
thing I order." 



32 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" When we get down town you will find 
women who move in what we call the best 
society carrying market baskets. Perhaps 
they take them home in their carriages in- 
stead of on a street car, as I do, but you 
may be sure of one thing, — they are good 
housekeepers." 

" Why do you carry your marketing home? " 
asked Mrs. Kerr, while she stopped to lock the 
front door. 

" I once knew an old lady who distrusted 
human nature; so she carried a rubber stamp 
to market, and whether it was a chicken, a 
roast, or a basket of grapes she purchased, 
her name was stamped on it." 

" So she would get what she chose? " asked 
Mrs. Kerr, laughing. 

Her neighbor nodded. " Exactly, but I 
carry a basket. Even if my marketman brings 
what I choose, there is the advantage of rapid 
transit. Living as we do in the suburbs, a 
wagon is three or four hours en route. Dur- 
ing that time lettuce, parsley, or cress become 
wilted in hot weather or frost bitten in winter; 



THE MEAT MARKET 33 

while strawberries, peaches, or any soft fruit, 
are not improved by a jolting journey and a 
fierce sun. Besides, a meal will not be delayed 
while waiting for the delivery team. One day 
last week I waited till half -past eleven; then 
I was compelled to serve a makeshift dinner 
of frizzled beef with the vegetables which ac- 
company roast lamb." 

" Where do you market? " asked Margaret, 
as they left the main street for a thoroughfare 
that led to the river. 

" I patronize a small market in a most un- 
fashionable quarter of the city," said Mrs. 
Griswold. " It is kept by an old Frenchman 
and his son. They are experts on cutting 
and trimming meat. The place is fastidiously 
clean. Meat, fish, and fruit are never at the 
mercy of dirt or flies. On this out-of-the-way 
street rents are low. My butcher employs no 
help outside the family, so he can afford to 
take smaller profits. Few of the richer class 
deal here; therefore one can frequently find 
at quite reasonable prices such titbits as calves' 
liver, sweetbreads, or a tongue, which in the 



84 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

big markets are ordered ahead, and almost 
impossible to get." 

" I market by ordering from the clerk," 
Margaret confessed, "or Rob telephones from 
the office." 

" There are exemplary clerks and exemplary 
butchers who will send you the best they have, 
but they are rare. Besides, the study of a 
counter always reveals something good and 
cheap wliich you would not have remembered 
at home. Meat has risen so in price during 
the past few years that roasts, steaks, and 
chops, on which the average housewife de- 
pends, make a meat bill large. But there are 
other things besides lamb chops, porterhouse 
steak, or a roast, which by careful cooking be- 
come very savory. I will show you some of 
the cuts I mean, for here we are at the 
market." 

" It actually smells clean," exclaimed Mar- 
garet. 

"If you have a side of beef in the refrig- 
erator," said Mrs. Griswold to the marketman, 
"may we look at it? I have brought you a 





P^^*!^ T^-— -4- It actually smells clean. B. The lower part of 



the round. 



THE MEAT MARKET 35 

new customer. I want to teach her about 
cuts." 

" Yes, indeed, ma'am," said the man in the 
white apron. " I will cut it in two; you may 
then get a better idea of the grain of the 
meat." 

" This is half of a young, well-fed animal. 
The meat, which at first was reddish purple, 
is fast changing to a bright red, while the fat 
is a wholesome creamy white color. It has a 
juicy appearance, that tells it has hung long 
enough to become well ripened. These are 
sure signs of excellent beef. When one begins 
to consider cuts of meat, their price, their 
tenderness, or toughness, you have to imagine 
the animal on its feet, wandering around in 
search of food. Like every other creature of 
flesh, blood and bone, it has a wonderful net- 
work of muscles. Some of these muscles get 
little usage, others work overtime. Therefore, 
we find the tenderest pieces where the body 
has had little exercise, — the flesh on top of 
the back, the loin or porterhouse, the seven 
prime ribs, as a butcher calls them, and the 



36 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

thick sirloin, — cuts which are best adapted for 
broiling or roasting. Near the neck you find 
the chuck ribs and shoulder, beside the tail the 
rump, then we come down to the round and 
leg, portions of the animal which abound in 
muscle. Where sinews are abundant and the 
flesh has a coarse grained appearance, differ- 
ent methods of cooking must be resorted to; 
if broiled or roasted it would be almost im- 
possible to chew. It should be subjected to 
such slow cooking as braising, simmering at 
just below the boiling point, or pot-roasting. 
The nearer one approaches the hoof of the 
animal, the better is the meat suited for soup- 
making. The tendons of the shin are rich in 
gelatine, and when dissolved by long, slow 
cooking, give flavor and consistency to the 
soup. The butcher assures me he has to cut 
up this side of beef for the day's trade. It 
will give you a complete idea of the diflPerent 
cuts, with their food value and their price." 

Margaret was thoroughly interested. 
" Won't you tell me the cuts from one end 
of the quarter to the other?" she asked. 



THE MEAT MARKET 37 

" The piece of shin," explained Mrs. Gris- 
wold, " from this quarter makes excellent soup. 
The meat is of better flavor, and the bone 
contains finer marrow than the fore quarter. 
Farther up is the round; from the top of it, 
in such tender beef as this, you can get a very- 
good steak. Pound it lightly, then lay it for 
two or three days in the refrigerator with salad 
oil poured over it, and you will have a rarely 
fine steak, ' marinated,' as a chef calls it. This 
is the secret of many a fine hotel steak that 
you find hard to classify. Next comes the 
rump, from which roasts or stews are cut. 
Then the sirloin, in which we find fine roasts 
and porterhouse steaks. From this part is cut 
the tenderloin, — a fine, tender strip of meat 
hnng inside the bone. This bit of the creature 
does not receive the slightest exercise. It is 
a delicate morsel, which sells for sixty or 
seventy-five cents a pound, and is usually 
larded, then roasted or broiled. Although de- 
liciously tender, it does not possess the flavor 
and nourishment of a cheaper piece of steak. 

" Now we come to the fore-quarter, which 



38 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

begins at the five prime ribs for roasting. 
Close to them He the five chuck ribs, excellent 
bits for stews and small steaks. The neck is 
generally converted into hamburg steak, while 
the under part of the animal, which includes 
the flank, the plate, the navel, and brisket, are 
corned. Here is the shoulder clod, — no cut 
can excel it in juiciness or flavor when a pot- 
roast or beef a la mode is desired." 

" You promised," suggested Margaret, " to 
tell me of cuts which were economical for a 
small family." 

" There are many. We will leave porter- 
house and sirloin steak out of the question; 
you know about them. A pound of steak 
from the top of the round, marinated as 
I suggested, and broiled, will give you an 
excellent dinner. A cheaper piece of round 
steak chopped and broiled is delicious as ham- 
burg steak, or when baked it makes a savory 
* cannelon.' A cut of three pounds from the 
rump may be braised, and is quite appetizing 
cold as well as hot. A pound of rump or 
round steak will make a delicious little stew, 




p 



LATE VI.— A. The chuck roast. B. The sirloin. 



THE MEAT MARKET 39 

while a braised or boiled tongue affords one 
hot meal and several lunch dishes. An ox-tail 
is delicious fricasseed or in soup. 

" A sheep's liver is as highly esteemed in 
England as calf's liver is here. In American 
markets it is almost given away. If liver looks 
cloudy and, a heart or kidneys have a streaky, 
spotted appearance, you may be very sure they 
are diseased and will make dangerous food. 
When well nourished and healthy they are 
smooth, red, and juicy. A calf's heart is a 
most appetizing dish, larded, stuffed with a 
well-seasoned dressing, roasted, and served 
with a rich, brown gravy. Pot-roasting con- 
verts a number of cheap cuts into excellent 
dishes. Among these I may enumerate the 
juicy, lean cross rib, and a solid piece from 
the lower part of the round or face of the 
rump. Two pounds of flank, which costs ten 
cents a pound, is delicious cooked a la Mila- 
naise. Roll the meat, saute it brown, season 
well, and braise slowly for two hours, with 
enough water to make a good gravy. 

*' There is a knack in knowing how to pick 



40 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

out a soup bone as well as knowing how to 
cook it. It ought to be two-thirds meat, one- 
third bone and fat. The plan I follow in 
winter with soup-making for our large family 
is to purchase two pieces of shin, one meat, 
another bone and gristle. It is cooked very 
slowly. When tender, I take the meat, sep- 
arating it from the bone and gristle, which 
continues cooking till all the good has been 
extracted. The meat makes a good hash or 
stew; indeed, it is not to be despised for 
croquettes. Forty cents' worth of shin yields 
four nourishing meals in the shape of stew, 
hash, or a galantine. 

" A pound of cutlets, breaded and sauted, 
are cheap and delicious, or veal from the loin 
may be fricasseed and enriched by brown 
sauce. Veal loaf, hot or cold, is a very nice 
dish. When one comes to pork, I believe in 
eating it only once in a great while, then in 
cold weather, when fat food is required to 
warm the body. It is a good idea to regulate 
the use of pork, — excepting ham and bacon, 
— as we do oysters, to the months which have 



THE MEAT MARKET 41 

an ' r ' in them. Pork chops, or pork tender- 
loin, are more suitable than a roast for your 
family. Tiny, well-spiced sausages are deli- 
cious and make a nice breakfast dish. There 
is one rule about using pork, — it must be 
thoroughly cooked; it is actually dangerous 
when rare." 

" You have not mentioned lamb or mut- 
ton," Margaret suggested, after they had 
done their ordering and put the purchases in 
their baskets. 

" No, because I am going to give my last 
order for a hind-quarter of mutton. Show 
me one, please," she added to the butcher. 

" Here is a good side," he said. " It has 
hung two weeks and is finely flavored." 

" This is remarkably nice mutton," said Mrs. 
Griswold. "Notice how small the bones are; 
the flesh is red and fine grained, while the fat 
is firm and white." 

" You will not carry this in your basket? " 
questioned Margaret. 

" No, indeed," Mrs. Griswold laughed. 
" I '11 let them send it home. Come over 



42 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

after dinner. I will cut it up and show you 
how economical it is to buy mutton in this 
way." 

Mrs. Kerr watched with eager interest her 
neighbor's manipulation of a hind-quarter of 
mutton. She stood at the kitchen table with 
the quarter of mutton before her, and a meat 
saw, a cleaver and butcher's knife at her 
elbow. 

" Were n't these tools expensive? " Margaret 
asked. 

" They cost several dollars ten years ago, 
but I have saved the price of them many times 
by purchasing mutton in a quarter, probably 
once a fortnight during the winter." 

Mrs. Griswold cut what she required as 
deftly as the butcher could have done. 

" The first part I use, you see, is the flank," 
said the housewife. " Its keeping qualities are 
not quite as good as other parts of the quarter. 
With the flank I cut the small end of the ribs, 
leaving the loin chops and the rib quite short. 
I will take ofl* eight chops for dinner to-night, 
then in the cold pantry I will hang up the leg 




TpiLATE VII. — A. A braised tongue. B. Lamb chops. 



THE MEAT MARKET 43 

with half a dozen chops left, four of them 
prime cuts from the leg. It will keep well 
for two weeks. We will have another dinner 
of chops, then the leg braised or roasted. The 
flank I have just cut off^ will make several 
quarts of fine mutton stock. This I pour into 
three or four pails and set away on a cold shelf 
to be used as we need it." 

" Why don't you put it in one large jar? " 

" Because we would not use all the stock 
at one meal, and the remainder would spoil 
if the cake of fat was broken. The fat on 
top of the stock keeps the air out, just as a 
layer of paraffin preserves jelly. The stock 
is strained into a pail and cooled as quickly as 
possible." 

" Why are some chops so much more costly 
than others?" asked Mrs. Kerr. 

" They come from different parts of the 
animal, and for the weight lost in trimming 
a customer is charged. The eight ribs are cut 
into chops and called rib chops. The meat 
which lies between these ribs and the leg is cut 
into sHces we call loin chops. On chops, a leg 



44 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

of mutton, the forequarter, or any other part 
of sheep's flesh, always pare away carefully 
the outside, fatty skin. If this is allowed to 
stay on you have the unpleasant woolly taste 
which often spoils lamb or mutton." 



IV 

PLANNING A WEEK's WORK, AND WASH-DAY 

" Is n't it delightful to have piazza weather 
arrive? " called Mrs. Griswold to her neighbor 
one afternoon in April. She was bringing out 
rockers which had had a long, dusty rest in the 
attic. 

"It is pleasant." Margaret dropped into 
a chair with a sigh. " Dear ! I quite sympa- 
thize with anybody who called the second day 
of the week 'Blue Monday' (I should add 
Blue Tuesday) . I get so tired before I finish 
laundry work I could drop." 

" You had a big washing yesterday." 

" It was big and hard," agreed Mrs. Kerr. 

" Have you ever noticed that we do not 
wash on Monday?" 

" Yes ; I 've wondered why." 

" Because it simplifies labor. I don't under- 
stand why all the world chooses Monday for 



46 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

wash-day. I used to do it, until I decided to 
try Tuesday, — then I never went back to 
Monday." 

"Why, is it easier?" Margaret asked 
eagerly. 

"If one sweeps on the traditional Friday, 
a house is apt to get untidy and dirty before 
the beginning of the week." 

" It does," agreed her neighbor. " I never 
touched my washing yesterday till ten o'clock. 
Rob's shirts and collars had to be picked up 
for the laundry. There were cigar ashes 
everywhere, Sunday newspapers were littered 
about; there was such a muss." 

"It is so in nearly every household. All 
the members of a family are home Sunday, 
with liberty to do as they please — and — men 
folks are not tidy." 

" No, indeed," laughed Margaret. 

" Suppose you try my system next week and 
see how it goes. On Monday morning, after 
the breakfast dishes have been washed, Norah 
and I tidy the house, sweeping a bit here, run- 
ning the carpet-sweeper around there, dusting 



A WEEK'S WORK 47 

and throwing out withered flowers. Then we 
change the bed-linen and towels and gather the 
soiled clothes. Generally, on Sunday, pies and 
cake have been consumed, so we do baking 
enough to tide over Tuesday and Wednesday. 
After luncheon I take my sewing-basket and 
piece-bag and look over soiled clothes for tears 
and thin spots. Frequently in a tablecloth 
or sheet I find a place which can be quickly 
strengthened by a darn or patch. If I had 
left it to go in the wash untouched there would 
have been a hole that meant a half -hour's work. 
If possible, I save time by sewing patches on 
the machine; with a little practice it can be 
done neatly. I always mend breaks in woven 
underwear by the machine. I pull the tear or 
hole together and baste on the wrong side a 
bit cut from an old shirt. Then it is easy to 
tack down the torn edges and run it around 
on the machine, making the stitch large and 
loose, so it will give v^dth a strain. I follow 
the same plan with a thin place, setting the 
stitch across in step-ladder fashion. This 
treatment will make undergarments wear twice 



48 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

as long, especially if they are mended before 
the wringer and the washboard play havoc 
with them. I also look over the clothes for 
fresh stains. When they have been fixed by 
soap it is impossible to tell the nature of a 
stain. Cold water or milk never fixes a stain, 
so I try these first. I treat iron rust to salt 
and. lemon, then give it a sun bath. Alcohol 
removes grass or iodine stains. For tea, coffee, 
or fruit stains I spread the article over a bowl 
and pour boiling water through it. If it is 
a wine stain, the same method will take it out, 
the spot having been first covered with salt." 

"I am glad to know this; some of my 
beautiful new tablecloths have all sorts of 
marks on them." 

" Most stains will yield to simple treatments. 
If they do not, soak them with javelle water, 
then rinse." 

" What is javelle water? " 

" The most effective of all cleaning fluids, 
also the cheapest, — a gallon of it costs only a 
few cents. Dissolve one pound of sal-soda in 
a quart of hot water and add it to the clear 



A WEEK'S WORK 49 

liquid left after dissolving half a pound of 
chloride of lime in two quarts of water. This 
must be tightly corked and kept in a dark 
place. Use it on nothing but white clothes; 
it removes color from a fabric. 

" But to go back to our soiled linen: After 
it is mended and cleansed of stains I sort it, 
putting the finest and cleanest by itself, the 
medium-soiled, then the dirtiest and coarsest in 
another heap. An hour or two before soaking 
the clothes, shave half a cake of laundry soap 
into a boiler half full of water and set it at 
the back of the stove. Fill two tubs with tepid 
water, adding enough of the dissolved soap 
to make a strong suds. Put the clothes in 
one by one, the dirtier pieces at the bottom, 
the cleaner on top. That finishes Monday's 
work, allowing one to begin Tuesday with 
a clean house and enough food on hand, so 
work will not have to wait while cooking is 
done." 

" Won't you tell me, please," said Margaret, 
"the best way to wash? I never soaked clothes, 
and it is so hard to get them clean." 



50 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" Half the washing is done by soaking. The 
alkah in the soap has had time to act upon the 
dirt. In the morning wring the clothes and 
fill a tub with water as hot as you can put 
your hand in, then wash them, soaping and 
rubbing any stains. Wring and wash through 
another tubful of hot water, and drop them in 
a. boilerful of cold water with dissolved soap 
in it. Let the clothes scald, then empty them 
into a tub of cold water, wring and rinse in the 
bluing water. It is almost as essential to hang 
out clothes properly as it is to wash them right. 
Sheets, tablecloths, towels, pillow-cases, and 
napkins should be pinned squarely at the cor- 
ners, and allowed as much length as possible 
to hang, but not to touch the ground. Group 
together all articles of one sort on a line. 
Fasten garments by the bands, — it will make 
the danger of tearing less. Dry colored clothes 
in the shade to prevent fading, and do not 
hang starched articles in a strong wind or you 
will find no stiffness left in them. 

" You ought to have a receptacle suitable 
for clothes-pins. The handiest thing is a denim 








iLATE VIII. — It is as essential to hang clothes properly as to 
wash them right. 



A WEEK'S WORK 51 

bag made like an apron, with a deep pocket 
at each side. It requires a strong binding and 
stout band to fasten about the waist, as it is 
heavy when full of pins. Many a time dur- 
ing the winter I have watched you hanging 
out clothes and wanted to go out and wrap 
you up. So many colds are contracted on 
wash-day, simply from want of thought. 
Certain belongings are indispensable for laun- 
dry work. I keep them on hand for Norah 
and see to it that she wears them. There is a 
rubber apron — it costs a dollar to begin with, 
but it lasts for years. Over it may be tied a 
strong gingham apron. There is a warm golf 
jacket of white wool — an old one Frances had 
discarded — a warm hood, clean white mittens, 
and a pair of rubbers. The idea of having 
them white is that the wet clothes may not be 
soiled. Going from the hot steaming laundry 
to the chill of outdoors is the surest way one 
can plan to take a hard cold, the sort of cold 
that is a foundation for pneumonia. You will 
forgive me for talking about it? " 

"Of course, I realize how careless I have 



52 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

been. I 'm going to heed everything you have 
told me." 

" Good! Norah has just brought the wash- 
ing in now and is folding the clothes. Let us 
go and watch her." 

As they entered the kitchen the stalwart 
young maid came in from the yard with a 
basketful of snowy clothes. She laid them on a 
chair and covered the table with an ironing 
cloth, then set a bowl of clean warm water 
and a small whisk-broom beside her. Each 
article was shaken thoroughly; then dipping 
the whisk-broom in the water, she sprinkled 
it lightly. 

" I suggested, you remember," said Mrs. 
Griswold, " hanging pieces of the same kind 
together. You see the advantage of it — 
Norah has all the table napkins in one bunch. 
She can sprinkle them now and roll them 
together." 

Beginning with a dampened napkin, Norah 
prepared to fold each piece, drawing the edges 
and corners straight and smoothing wrinkles. 
Another napkin was laid on top, smoothed and 



A WEEK'S WORK 53 

pulled in shape till every one was in the pile, 
when it was rolled up tight and wrapped inside 
a towel. Table linen was made quite damp, 
all the starched pieces very damp, while sheets, 
pillow-cases, towels and underclothing were 
dampened only slightly. 

" It takes two persons to fold sheets and 
tablecloths," said Mrs. Griswold. " I will help 
you with it, Nor ah." 

The mistress and maid began with opposite 
ends of the dampened cloth, pulling a hand- 
breadth at the time. It was folded exactly in 
the middle, the sides and corners being matched 
with care. The basket was lined with an old 
sheet and into it went the folded clothes, the 
larger rolls in the bottom, the smaller on top. 

" In summer we leave the sprinkling and 
folding of clothes till early on the morning of 
ironing day. If left damp for twelve hours 
during hot weather they might mildew." 

" I have learned something," said Margaret. 
" I think my clothes will look better for it." 

One morning Mrs. Griswold dropped in 
when the young housewife began to iron. 



54 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" Perhaps I can give you a few ideas," said 
the elder woman. 

" I assure you I need them. I scorch things, 
or the iron sticks, or — " 

" I must tell you how to care for your irons. 
They will grow smoother as they age; the 
longer irons are in use the better they grow and 
the more easily they can be kept clean. Once 
in a while, after they have been used, rub them 
with sweet oil and let them stand a few days 
to allow the grease to strike in. Afterward 
wash them in soapsuds, rinse and dry 
thoroughly. When they rust paint the spots 
with quicklime and sweet oil, let stand a week, 
then wash and dry. I keep a sheet of fine 
emery paper tacked to a board, and every time 
the irons get rusty or rough I scrub them 
thoroughly. After a year of such care they 
will be smooth as polished steel. Only they 
must be kept clean by frequent washing and be 
stored in a clean, dry place. Now to ironing. 
First, you cannot work on a board with a loose 
cloth on it. Let me cover it for you. This 
strip of old blanket and sheet is just what is 



1 




in 


■ 1 




iPiii 






'Ih 


jl^S 








w^ 


i 




Rllf loP 


^ 






- r . 



9m 


Z 




)LATE IX. — A. A clothespin apron bag. B. An emery board. 
C. The best clothes horse. 



r 



A WEEK'S WORK 55 

wanted, but it must be put on without a 
wrinkle." 

Mrs. Griswold spread the woollen cover in 
place and tacked it under the edges, covering 
with the white cotton till perfectly smooth. She 
stretched the board from a chair back to the 
table. At the right she laid several thicknesses 
of newspaper, a stand for the irons and an old 
soft cloth to wipe the irons. On the table was 
a paper sprinkled with salt, and a cloth holding 
a bit of wax. 

" Let me do a bit of ironing," she said. " I 
will begin with the coarsest dish-towels. They 
are not easily scorched, and it tempers the heat 
of the iron before beginning on the starched 
articles. Keep the irons in good condition by 
rubbing them on the salt. The secret of mak- 
ing clothes look nice is to iron them perfectly 
dry with a light pressure till the surface is 
smooth, then press harder. Iron first the 
borders of napkins and handkerchiefs, being 
careful to pull them even and fold perfectly 
square. Hang everything to dry on the frame 
except small articles. 



56 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

*' The work of ironing cannot be called over 
when clothes are white and smooth. They must 
be carefully folded, carefully hung to dry, and 
carefully put away. The best clothes-horse 
is a cluster of long arms set against the wall. 
It is out of the way. When the clothes are dry, 
pull a clean table close to the clothes-horse and 
fold each piece in the creases made by the iron. 
Smooth it flat. Fasten shirts by a button at 
the neck, then they will fold neatly. 

" You are doing capitally." Mrs. Griswold 
watched her pupil hang a satin-smooth table- 
cloth on the frame. " I 'm going to give you 
a bit of advice. We have a laundry in town 
which, for any customer who sends the weekly 
consignment of shirts, cuff's and collars, does 
flat pieces for twenty-five cents a dozen. Flat 
pieces include sheets, tablecloths, towels, and 
pillow-cases. They are mangled beautifully, 
and it lessens labor." 

" I will be glad to send them ; it will take 
out the pieces I find hardest to do. And — 
if you can stay for a little visit, won't you 
finish telling how you plan your week's work? 



A WEEK'S WORK 57 

I 'm going to do my washing on Tuesday 
next week." 

" We had reached Wednesday, I remember. 
I make Thursday as easy as possible, both for 
Norah and myself. It is a sort of breathing- 
spell between the hardest tasks of the week. If 
the baked things of Monday have given out, 
I plan a pudding or jeUy for dessert and some 
easily made sweet dish for supper. After 
finishing the usual work of the morning, dish- 
washing, dusting, and bedmaking, I go to my 
sewing-room to mend and darn stockings. 
Washing will make a break here and there one 
does not catch in looking over the soiled clothes. 
Norah spends her morning cleaning the silver." 

" Do tell me what you use for that job," 
begged Margaret. " Everything I try 
scratches it." 

" I use saleratus moistened with a few drops 
of ammonia. It is an old-fashioned formula 
my mother and grandmother used. Nothing 
gives such a radiant polish; then it is clean to 
work with. Apply it with a soft cloth and 
allow it to dry on, then polish with a thin, soft 



58 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

chamois. Thursday is Norah's afternoon out, 
so I generally plan a light supper. Friday 
is sweeping day. After breakfast, while 
Norah is busy with the dishes, I go through the 
chambers making beds, pinning up curtains, 
and putting toilet-table belongings under a 
sheet on the bed. By going ahead of the 
sweeper and following to dust and straighten 
things, we manage to have the whole house, 
except the kitchen, spick and span before two 
o'clock. Saturday is a day of odds and ends. 
Usually I bake, while Norah mops the porches, 
washes windows, cleans the refrigerator, sweeps 
the cellar, tidies the store-closet and pantry, 
and scrubs the kitchen. If you were to adopt 
my plans for your small household, I think you 
would find work made easier." 



V 

GAS-STOVE AND REFKIGERATOR KNOWLEDGE 

" My dear girl, I would do nothing of the 
sort," said Mrs. Griswold one afternoon while 
she sat knitting on her neighbor's piazza. 
" You have been in this house for only five 
months; it does not require a strenuous 
cleaning." 

" Rob's aunt called the other day. She was 
horrified when I told her I was not going to 
houseclean. She said some cutting things." 
Margaret's lip quivered. 

" That 's nonsense," said the elder woman 
emphatically. " You keep your pretty little 
home immaculate. I should not worry; it is 
none of her business." 

" I have cleaned the house thoroughly." 
Margaret looked up eagerly from a shirt she 
was mending. " I swept from attic to cellar 
and washed windows and dusted walls. I 



60 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

did not clean paint or pull everything out- 
side in." 

" There was no necessity for it." 
" I wish you would tell me something about 
how to put away winter clothes. Grand- 
mother and I always sent our things to a bug- 
proof vault." 

" One can store them quite as well at home 
and with no expense. Moths flee from printers' 
ink; therefore I know of no better plan than 
to store woollen garments and furs in news- 
paper. Take them outdoors and beat them 
thoroughly. Sun furs for nearly a week and 
treat to a good combing before they are 
packed. I take a stiff brush and part the 
hair here and there till I reach the pelt, then 
I comb it. It makes the fur look like new; 
it also brings out moth eggs which may have 
been laid there. After airing I lay the furs 
in a double fold of newspaper and paste it till 
there is not a crack left at which a moth can 
enter. I have ready-gummed labels with 
' Polly's Mufl*,' ' Father's Seal Mittens,' ' As- 
trakhan Boa,' or whatever it happens to be 




)LATE X. — A. Take furs outdoors and beat them. B. Get pans 
which ftt into your oven. 



STOVES, REFRIGERATORS 61 

printed on them. When these bundles are 
piled on an attic shelf mth the label outward, 
it is easy to find what is wanted. Winter gar- 
ments, such as heavy suits or overcoats, I carry 
to the bright sunshine, then search for every 
stain and take it out. I save the large paper 
boxes that suits, shirtwaists, laundry, or boys' 
clothes are delivered in, line them with news- 
paper, fold the garments neatly, tuck in beside 
each one a tiny ball of absorbent cotton which 
has been sprinkled with oil of cedar, and I 
paste up the box, writing on the outside what 
it contains." 

"Is that safe?" 

" Perfectly ; I never found a moth hole in 
anything. It is cheap and simple in compari- 
son to the way some women fuss with cedar 
chests, tar-paper bags, naphtha, carbolic acid, 
moth-balls, camphor, tobacco, red pepper, 
cedar shavings, and sandalwood. 

" I dislike moth-ball odor, which clings to 
your clothes till the frost takes it out. Yet 
all this fussing is simply like putting silver 
in a safe," laughed Mrs. Griswold; "you 



62 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

and I keep our houses almost moth-proof. 
Every apartment is sweet, clean, and sun- 
shine flooded. Moths hate sunlight and clean- 
liness almost as they do camphor and cedar 
smells." 

" The only place in the house I have not 
cleaned now is the cellar. We have n't taken 
out the ashes." 

" Before carting them away I would sug- 
gest cleaning the furnace. A man from the 
stove store will overhaul it thoroughly for 
$1.50. When we started a fire one fall 
the pipes leaked. A man from the furnace 
dealer's came to fix it. The pipes had not 
been cleaned for three years, so they were 
filled with soot and ashes. That summer had 
been unusually damp, and the moisture pene- 
trated to the furnace, transforming an ac- 
cumulation of ashes in the chimney and pipes 
into mud, which rusted the metal into holes. 
New pipes and the labor of putting them in 
cost us $22.00 instead of the $1.50 we now 
spend each spring on getting the furnace 
thoroughly cleaned. It also saves money on 



STOVES, REFRIGERATORS 63 

coal ; we get more heat from the furnace than 
if there were deposits of ashes to prevent 
radiation." 

" Just as if the kitchen stove were clogged 
with ashes," suggested Margaret. 

" Exactly. Now as to cleaning the cellar. 
When the furnace has been attended to and 
the ashes carried away, open the windows and 
give it a good airing. Sweep the walls, ceil- 
ing, and floor, and brush the dirt off sta- 
tionary articles. Wash the windows, then turn 
the garden hose loose in the cellar. Sozzle the 
walls, the ceiling, the floor, the coalbins, even 
around the furnace. In the floor is a drain 
which leads to the sewer, and the water will 
soon disappear, carrying with it cobwebs, 
spiders, and all sorts of creatures which love 
damp, dark nests. When the water subsides, 
put on a pair of rubbers and wipe the furnace, 
then light a wood fire to dry it outside and in. 
Set screens in the windows, and let air in to 
freshen and dry the cellar. As soon as hot 
weather begins I open the cellar windows only 
at night." 



64 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

"Why?" 

" The outdoor air in the daytime is much 
warmer than in the cellar. When it enters 
the cool underground atmosphere it condenses 
as warm air does outside a pitcher of ice- 
water. Mould and rust is the result, while 
the cellar becomes damp and warm." 

" Here comes our new gas-stove," cried 
Margaret. " Did I tell you Rob had ordered 
one?" 

Mrs. Griswold followed her to the kitchen, 
where the men came with the stove. 

" There is one difficulty," said Margaret, — 
" I don't know how I will move when I have 
two stoves, a refrigerator, and a table in this 
tiny kitchen." 

" Have the men store your coal-stove in our 
barn," said the kindly neighbor. 

Fifteen minutes later the range had been 
carried away and there was a place ready for 
the gas-stove. 

" Here is a capital corner for it," said Mrs. 

W: Griswold ; " so close to the cellar door and a 

gas-jet that little piping will be required. 



STOVES, REFRIGERATORS 65 

Then it is out of reach of a draught from 
the door or windows." 

The comfort of the gas-stove was reaUzed 
by the young housewife when a spell of sum- 
mer weather arrived in the middle of May. 
Still, it was not all plain sailing; there was 
dismay when the first month's bill came in. 

" Is n't four dollars for gas pretty expen- 
sive? " she asked, when Mrs. Griswold ran in 
one day. 

"It is altogether too much. I must give 
you a few points on how to keep the metre 
jogging at a slower speed, and also suggest 
various appliances which save gas. You must 
have a small oven to set on top. It costs 
only $1.50. The lower oven is heated by 
double rows of burners which fairly con- 
sume gas. The tiny f ourteen-inch oven is set 
over one burner on top. It will not hold a 
turkey or a baron of beef, but it takes care 
of every-day cooking. You may not get ac- 
customed to it immediately. I didn't. I 
found things burned on the bottom. I bought 
a book filled with asbestos paper, which cost 



66 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

only 10 cents. Now I lay a sheet of asbes- 
tos in the bottom of the oven, and everything 
bakes beautifully. I watch the metre occa- 
sionally to discover how much gas is burned. 
In thirty minutes yesterday I baked a cake, 
a pan of pop-overs, and a jar of prunes; the 
cost was not more than 2 cents. The small oven 
will cook a rib roast if set in a short-handled 
iron spider. It is handy afterward to prepare 
the gravy in. I measured the oven, then I 
bought bake-pans to fit it. You would be 
surprised to see how much it will hold by 
tucking pans tightly together. Instead of 
baking pies in round plates I use square ones. 
Only one round plate will go on a shelf, while 
I can put two square pies, besides a long, 
narrow cake-pan, on one shelf, leaving the 
upper one for other uses. By setting the 
oven over the simmering burner you can cook 
dishes which require a moderate heat, — baked 
beans, beef a la mode, custards, casserole 
dishes, rice, tapioca, and gingerbread. I 
cook all dried fruits, such as prunes or apri- 
cots, in the oven. When I want to make 




\LATE XI. — A. A gas stove toaster. B. A gas stove waffle iron. 
C. The small oven bakes beans to perfection. D. A contrivance 
for heating irons on the gas stove. 



STOVES, REFRIGERATORS 67 

brownbread, I pour it in a greased coiFee tin, 
set that inside a lard pail, and pour boiling 
water around it. Three hours in the oven, 
with the simmerer turned high enough to bake 
beans, will steam the bread to perfection. 

" Among other savers of gas bills is a 
contrivance for heating irons, a toaster to 
put over a burner, and a broiler which will 
cook over the gas. They only cost about 25 
cents each. I became acquainted with a gas- 
stove twelve years ago. During that time I 
have learned how to get the best results with 
the least gas. First you must realize the value 
of this small burner, — the simmerer, as it is 
called. After anything is brought to a boil, 
it cooks with equal speed, whether it * grins 
or smiles,' as a French cook expresses it. In- 
deed, everything is better cooked at the smil- 
ing than at the grinning stage; then half the 
amount of gas suffices. When there is a 
roast for dinner, vegetables and dessert may 
be baked instead of boiled. Certain cereals 
may be cooked in five minutes over a flame, — 
stirring constantly, of course, — which would 



68 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

have required an hour in the double boiler. 
There are many dishes which are quite as good 
steamed, as baked, — scores of puddings, for 
instance, as well as bread, veal loaf, custards, 
potatoes, and a number of vegetables." 

" I feel guilty," confessed Margaret. " I 
kept the big oven running for half an hour 
yesterday to bake two cups of custard." 

" Nothing will teach you like experience 
and a few big gas bills." 

" I wish you would teU me how to keep the 
stove clean. Things boil over on top and burn 
in the oven." 

" All the care a gas-stove requires is that 
it be kept washed clean. Once a day pull out 
the tray from under the burners and scrub it 
in soap and water, putting it in a hot oven 
to dry. Occasionally, before the kitchen floor 
is mopped, Norah washes off the stove inside 
and out with a scrubbing-brush and hot suds, 
lighting the oven burners immediately and 
drying it oif to prevent rust. I had a tin- 
smith make a zinc slide for the bottom of the 
oven. When anything gets spilt, the slide can 



STOVES, REFRIGERATOES 69 

be drawn out and washed. It is easier than 
cleaning the crusted bottom of the oven." 

" Rob suggests putting the refrigerator 
down cellar; it crowds our little kitchen, and 
is terribly in the way." 

"Don't," advised Mrs. Griswold. "You 
cannot preserve food in a damp atmosphere. 
By pushing aside a table in the kitchen it 
could be set between two windows, where the 
sun will not beat on it." 

" The ice melts so fast," objected the young 
housewife. 

" You buy a twenty-five-pound piece, don't 

you?" 

Margaret nodded. 

" Take my advice and put in a hundred 
pounds at the time. Ice will not melt so fast 
in a temperature of 45° as it will when the 
temperature is 55°. The only way to retain a 
temperature of 45° is to keep the ice-box full 
and the doors and hds constantly shut. One 
hundred pounds in a chunk will last nearly 
twice as long as if it were delivered in instal- 
ments. How do you drain the refrigerator? " 



70 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" Into, a pan, and it is such a nuisance; I 
forget to empty it. The other night Rob and 
I went to a concert. We never thought of 
going to the kitchen when we came in, and 
next morning a stream from the waste-pipe had 
trickled clear across the dining-room floor." 

" My husband must show Robert how to 
drain it. If you set the refrigerator between 
the windows it will stand exactly over the set- 
tubs in the cellar, as ours does. Bore a hole 
in the kitchen floor large enough to hold the 
tube of a funnel. Set the waste-pipe of the 
refrigerator over the funnel, and to the tube 
which protrudes through the floor attach a few 
feet of rubber tubing. This can drain into a 
tub. Of course, there is the necessity once a 
week of cleaning the tub. The hose must not 
reach the waste-pipe; it might suck sewer 
odors up into the refrigerator. On wash-day 
let it drip into a pail while the tub is in use." 

" I have trouble with milk and butter tast- 
ing of things; the other day the butter had 
a decidedly fishy flavor." 

" The greatest care must be taken about 





fe 




- - -,-— 1^1 






i... t^=^ 


lEi 





)LATE XII. ~A. The butter had a decidedly fishy flavor. B. 
Norah cleans our refrigerator once a week. 



STOVES, REFRIGERATORS 71 

storing food in a refrigerator. Certain things 
may be kept beside the ice, provided the cham- 
ber is not too full. Lettuce, cucumbers, rad- 
ishes, celery, or a fish wrapped in paraffin 
paper, may be laid on the ice. The air is 
purified when it goes under the rack and will 
not carry odors to the food below. Nothing 
like butter, milk, or even drinking-water, un- 
less bottled, should go in the ice chamber, as 
smells from food in the shelves below may be 
absorbed." 

" Where, then, can I store things that will 
be spoiled by odors?" 

" There is only one place in a refrigerator 
free from odors, — that is on the top shelf, 
under the opening through which cold air 
descends from the ice. Here butter or milk 
set to raise cream can be kept safely. The 
coldest place in a refrigerator is the bottom 
of the provision chamber. Here I keep meat, 
cooked or uncooked; fish which has been 
cleaned and dried, then wrapped in parchment 
paper; bottled milk, oysters, and drinking- 
water (in a corked bottle)." 



72 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" Does a refrigerator need cleaning often? " 
said Margaret. 

" We clean ours once a week, planning the 
job so that it will be dry before the ice-man 
comes. The shelves and the rack are scrubbed 
in hot soapsuds, then in hot soda water, and 
rinsed in boiling water. They are wiped dry 
and set outdoors to air. If anything has been 
spilled, a fine-pointed skewer will pick it out 
of a corner or ledge. The funnel is taken out 
and washed, the pipe and hose cleaned, and 
hot soda water flushes the pipes. Every cor- 
ner is wiped dry, while the air freshens it for 
an hour. Then with a hundred pounds of ice 
in its place the temperature goes back shortly 
to the desired 45°." 



VI 

A LESSON ON CANNING FRUIT 

" I WANT to make a proposition," said Mrs. 
Kerr one morning. " Rob's uncle has a big 
market-garden in Pike county. He has sent 
us two crates of splendid strawberries. If you 
will come across with your cans and canning 
necessities, you may have a crate to preserve. 
I '11 put up the other." 

" Oh, thank you ; that is a gift I will ac- 
cept with pleasure, for I have n't canned any 
berries yet." 

" These are rarely fine berries," said Mrs. 
Griswold when she raised the lid of a crate; 
" finer than any I 've seen this season. I had 
planned to preserve strawberries next week 
while they are in their prime. Some house- 
wives wait till fruit gets poor and cheap be- 
fore they begin canning. I do not believe in 
that. There is economy in paying a good 
price, not an extravagantly early price, but 



74 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

one that will command native fruit, which is 
the finest, juiciest, best flavored on the market. 
I study the tastes of my household, and put 
up as much or as Httle fruit as I know will 
be eaten." 

" What are the best months for preserving 
different fruits?" asked Margaret. 

" In June come strawberries, rhubarb, and 
cherries; July brings red and black raspber- 
ries, gooseberries, currants, blackberries, and 
blueberries. In August we have blackberries, 
peaches, plums, pears, and crab-apples. A 
September sun ripens quinces, grapes, barber- 
ries, and citrons. When I am planning to 
put up fruit I make my preparations the night 
before. Fruit cans and lids are sterilized by 
putting them in cold water softened by borax, 
and allowing it to boil for twenty minutes. I 
provide new rings; a rubber which has been 
used once is fit only to throw away. When 
the cans have been thoroughly cleansed, fill 
each one with water, put on the rubber and 
lid, screw tight, and turn upside down on a 
sheet of paper. If there is the slightest leak 




)LATE XIII. — A. A row of loater-filled cans upside doion. B. 
The fruits of a summer in jars. C. Utensils required at pre- 
serving time. 



CANNING FRUIT 75 

it will show; therefore, discard that jar; there 
is a crack or chip in it somewhere by which 
bacteria will enter to make the fruit ferment 
later. 

" Next morning I rise early and go to 
market at six o'clock, hiring a parcel-delivery 
man to carry home the fruit. This costs fif- 
teen or twenty-five cents, but it pays. I get 
the pick of the finest fruit gathered freshly 
the night before, and I have it at the house 
ready to begin work on after breakfast. 
Norah washes the dishes and leaves the beds 
to air till afternoon, then we both begin work 
on the fruit, getting it out of the way be- 
fore lunch-time. Now we have berries enough 
hulled to begin work. The regulation canned 
strawberries are warranted to take away one's 
appetite. They are shrivelled, bleached, taste- 
less bits of pulp floating in a sweetened pink 
liquid. Both color and taste have been cooked 
out of them. The only way to preserve straw- 
berries perfectly is to put them up without 
cooking. It is a trifle more expensive than 
the method by which other fruits are canned. 



76 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

but you will be repaid by the quality of your 
preserves." 

" Why are you sorting them over? " asked 
Margaret, while she watched her neighbor 
separate the berries into two bowls. 

" The fine, large ones are for canning ; the 
smaller berries are to convert into juice." 

There was one quart of inferior berries. 
Mrs. Griswold put them, with half a cupful 
of water, over the fire in a small saucepan. 
When they had cooked to a pulp she squeezed 
them through a potato ricer, then added to 
one pint of juice a pound of sugar and half 
a pint of water. While it simmered for 
twenty minutes she filled the cans with the 
fine berries and set them into the wash-boiler, 
which held a layer of excelsior and enough 
warm water to cover half of the cans. Fresh 
berries were added as the fruit sank into the 
can. Into the bottles was poured the ruby- 
colored strawberry syrup. When each can was 
filled to overflowing the lids were snapped on, 
and hot water was poured into the boiler till it 
almost reached the top of the cans. The gas 



CANNING FRUIT 77 

was lit underneath, the Hd of the boiler was put 
on, then the water boiled slowly for half an 
hour. The cans were lifted out and covered 
with a thick towel to prevent cool air striking 
them; that might have cracked the glass. 

" This is all the science there is about can- 
ning fruit," said Mrs. Griswold when the last 
jar was set upon the table. " Now I am 
going backward over a number of small points 
I have not mentioned. In the future buy pint 
jars; they hold as much as you will require 
for two meals. After opening a quart can, 
the fruit must be used within a few days un- 
less it can be kept in a cold place. Notice this 
wooden rack upon which I set the hot cans. 
It is a frame upon which silkoline was 
wrapped. Any drygoods store will give you 
one. It is the handiest thing I know for set- 
ting hot kettles or cans on a table. Use the 
best granulated sugar for canning. If it 
makes a clear syrup it is all right; if there is 
a trace of a bluish scum, order your grocer to 
change it. It will pay you to buy sugar in 
larger quantities than a dollar's worth. My 



78 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

plan is to wait each year till sugar drops in 
price, — it inevitably does after the fruit-can- 
ning season, — then I purchase a barrel, which 
nets me ten pounds extra on each one hundred 
pounds. Forty pounds of sugar — for a bar- 
rel usually holds four hundred pounds — is 
economy worth while, to say nothing of the 
convenience in having plenty on hand at pre- 
serving time." 

" I wish you would tell me something about 
the utensils to use. I am no borrower," said 
Margaret. 

" Buy a preserving-kettle of enamelled iron. 
It was not a necessity to-day, when we had 
only syrup to boil, but you will require it later 
in the season for cooking such fruits as pears 
and quinces, and for boiling jellies. You need 
a wooden spoon, a granite ladle that holds a 
cupful to dip fruit into the can, a fruit funnel 
which fits into the mouth of a can, a pair of 
scales, a skimmer, a measuring-cup, and a 
potato ricer, which you will find available for 
many things besides squeezing the juice from 
fruit. 



CANNING FRUIT 79 

" About fruit I have a ' wrinkle ' of my 
OWE Something in hght rays causes fer- 
mer ation and granulation. The dampness 
whi exists in even the dryest cellars is not 
couvALicive to keeping fruit, and it is hard to 
exclude light from an upstairs closet. At a 
paper factory I had several hundred bags 
made from dark-blue paper. They are shaped 
to envelop a fruit can completely. On each 
is pasted a label with the name of the fruit 
written on it. Since I adopted this plan I 
have not lost a pint of fruit.'* 

" Now I shaU go ahead," said Margaret, 
" and put up aU the season's fruit." 

*' I am sure you can," answered Mrs. Gris- 
wold, decisively, " only different fruits require 
different methods. If you can afford fruit 
to squeeze the juice from and add to the 
syrup, as we did with the strawberries, you 
will have a preserve that is fine and fruity; 
still, it is not a necessity. The strawberry, 
when put up in plain syrup, loses in flavor 
and color. Preserved in its juice, it is a 
plump, dehcious berry. Blackberries, red and 



80 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

black raspberries, blueberries, cherries, pine- 
apples, fine ripe peaches, plums, apricots, and 
damsons, may be canned as we have done the 
strawberries. Quinces and pears are a hard 
fruit; they require steaming or cooking to 
become tender. In fruits you have to peel, 
such as pears and peaches, always use a 
silver knife, to prevent the fruit becoming 
discolored." 

" When you pour boiling fruit and syrup 
into a can, is n't there danger of breaking it? 
I had a glass measuring-cup snap in two yes- 
terday when I put hot water in it." 

"If you had put a teaspoon in the cup it 
would not have broken," answered Mrs. Gris- 
wold. " When you are canning fruit, lift a 
jar fr9m the boiling water in which it was 
sterilized and wind around it a towel wrung 
from hot water. Sterilize a rubber ring and 
lay on the mouth of the jar. Insert the 
funnel and drop in the jar a long-handled 
silver fork. Put the wooden frame on the 
table and set the hot kettle upon it. Lift the 
fruit from the syrup and fill the jar, then pour 




)LATE XIV.— A. A bottle ready to fill with hot fruit. B. A rack 
for the hot kettle. 



m 



m 



CANNING FRUIT 



81 



in a ladleful of boiling syrup till the jar 
overflows. With the handle of the fork press 
the fruit away from the side of the jar, that 
air-bubbles may escape. Put on the cover and 
snap it down tight." 

" Do all fruits require the same amount of 
sugar? " asked Mrs. Kerr. 

" No, indeed. Consider the sweetness of 
the fruit you are preserving. Strawberries 
are sour in comparison to red raspberries or 
blueberries. Suppose I make for you a table 
such as we use." 

Then she wrote down this table, indicating 
the proportions of sugar and water required 
in the syrups of the different fruits: 



Pineapple . . . 
Peaches .... 


1 lb. sugar, 
1/2 lb. « 


1 pt. ^ 

it 


Quinces .... 

Pears 

Blueberries . . 


1/2 lb. " 
1/2 lb. « 
1/2 lb. " 


(I 
a 


Sour Plums . . 


3/4 lb. « 


« 


Sweet Plums . . 


1/2 lb. « 


« 


Cherries . . . 


1/2 lb. « 


a 


Red Raspberries 
Blackberries . . 


1/2 lb. « 
1/2 lb. « 




Strawberries . . 


1 lb. 


it 



82 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" These quantities give you well-sweetened 
fruit with a rich syrup. By cutting down 
slightly the amount of sugar you have an 
equally good preserve, with more of the flavor 
of the fruit." 

" You set away six baskets of berries," said 
Margaret. " What are we to do with them? " 

" I planned to give you an idea of how 
jellies are made, then we will put up a tumbler 
of sun-cooked strawberries, a method used in 
England. It is such a rich preserve that you 
can use it for a garnish, just as you drop a 
Maraschino cherry into whipped cream or a 

jelly." 

" Can jelly be made from strawberries? " 
" Not from strawberries alone. They are 
lacking in pectin, a carbohydrate which resem- 
bles gelatine. It dissolves in boiling water, 
but stiffens in cooling. The fruits which con- 
tain the largest amount of pectin are quinces, 
apples, crab-apples, currants, and grapes. The 
juice of strawberries would not jelly by itself, 
but if I add to it some fruit which is rich in 
pectin I get a delicious and firm jelly." 



CANNING FRUIT 83 

" Only," suggested Margaret, "' I have 
neither quinces, apples, currants, nor grapes 
on hand." 

" Perhaps not," said Mrs. Griswold, " but 
I happen to have two baskets of half -ripened 
currants we got for pie-making. You may 
have them." 

She returned a few minutes later with the 
fruit. 

" I brought a jeUy-bag along," she said. 
" You have not been housekeeping long 
enough to own a jelly-bag. Now we will 
hull these berries, reserving the large, perfect 
ones for preserves, while the smaller ones wdll 
go into a jelly." 

Two quarts of strawberries went into a 
granite kettle with the currants. They were 
mashed with a silver spoon till the juice 
flowed, then set over a gas flame to cook 
slowly. Mrs. Griswold put the pointed crash 
bag in a large bowl. 

" Now, if you will hold the mouth of the 
bag open, I will pour in the fruit." 

"Why did you wring the bag from hot 
water? " asked Margaret. 



84 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" To moisten it. If I poured the fruit in 
while it was dry, the hnen would have ab- 
sorbed half a cup of fruit juice. Now we 
will hang the bag to this hook over the sink 
and set a bowl beneath it to catch the juice. 
The sun comes pouring in here. We want its 
heat on the bag." 

" Why? " 

" You know how gelatine hardens when it 
cools. Pectin has the same property. Late in 
the autumn, when I make grape, apple, or 
quince jelly, I hang the jelly-bag close to 
the stove so the warmth will keep the juices 
oozing." 

"When will it cease to drip?" 

" Let it hang over night. In the morning 
measure the juice, and to a pint of juice use 
a pint of sugar. Set the sugar in a pan in the 
oven. Boil the juice for half an hour, then 
add the heated sugar. Ten minutes' boiling 
will make it into jelly. Pour into hot tumblers 
and set aside to cool. Next morning pour 
melted paraffin into each tumbler, cover with 
the tin lids and set away." 




)LATE XV. — A. This is all the science there is about canning 
fruit. B. Let a jelly hag drip over night. 



CANNING FRUIT 85 

" Can other fruits be used with currants for 
jelly? " asked Margaret. 

"Yes, indeed; currant jelly by itself is 
very good, but you may have a variety of 
flavors by using equal quantities of red rasp- 
berries, cherries, pineapples, or blackberries; 
each one of these fruits lacks in pectin, so 
they require currants or some other fruit to 
make them jelly. And, by the way, remember 
that all fruit used in jelly is much better under- 
ripe than over-ripe. It is also hard to jelly 
fruit which has been picked soon after rain." 

" I am curious to know about the sun-cooked 
berries," said Margaret. 

" We have here four pounds of perfect ber- 
ries," said Mrs. Griswold, as she lifted them 
ofl* the scales. " I will put them in the pre- 
serving-kettle and add four pounds of sugar. 
Now place on the fire and heat slowly to the 
boiling point. Let it simmer for ten minutes, 
skimming thoroughly. Pour the preserve on 
platters and set in a sunny window for 
twenty-four hours. Then pour into jelly- 
glasses and cover." 



VII 

HOT WEATHER HEALTH AND COMFORT 

Mrs. Griswold was putting breakfast on the 
table when she heard a rap at the back door. 
Robert Kerr stood there. 

" I hate to bother so good a neighbor," he 
said, apologetically, " but my little wife is not 
feeling well. She is overcome by the heat, I 
think." 

" I '11 come right away." Mrs. Griswold 
donned a sunbonnet and crossed the yard, 
where a July sun blazed down fiercely. 

" I don't believe it can be anything very 
serious," she said; "she is simply prostrated 
by the heat, and," she added, reluctantly, " by 
not knowing how to care for herself in hot 
weather. First, try to get the house cooled 
off." 

"How?" 



HEALTH AND COMFORT 87 

" You have probably had the windows open 
day and night since this hot spell began." 

" Yes. One wants all the air there is 
stirring." 

"Not hot air! At sundown every window 
in our house is opened wide; the air is begin- 
ning then to cool off. During the night the 
temperature falls lower still. In the morning 
we shut windows and doors and close the shut- 
ters on the side of the house where the sun 
pours in. By keeping the cool night air bot- 
tled up the difference between outdoors and 
indoors may be measured by ten or fifteen 
degrees. Every morning about six o'clock my 
husband sozzles the house, the piazzas, and the 
yard. A rush of cold water against windows 
and walls cools the inside of a house. You 
might try that now; I will close windows and 
shutters." 

When Mrs. Griswold stole upstairs through 
the darkened house she found Margaret awake. 

" I have had a bad night," the latter con- 
fessed. " The heat was so awful I did not 
sleep till dayhght." 



88 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" I am going to make you comfortable in 
half an hour, if you will follow the orders of 
an amateur physician." 

" I '11 do anything you suggest." 

*' I want you to take a bath," she said. 
" The tub is half full of tepid water. When 
you have been in a minute, turn on the cold 
water and fill the tub." 

" I cannot take a cold bath." Margaret 
shivered. 

" Try it," pleaded her neighbor. " There 
will be no chill, the water will be cooled so 
gradually. Lave your head with cold water, 
sopping the sponge over the base of your 
brain. Hold your wrists under a stream of 
cold water from the faucets. That will cool 
the hot blood which is pulsing through your 
body. Stay in the bath till you begin to feel 
cool; gently pat the body dry, dust your skin 
with violet powder, put on clean clothes, but 
no corset nor any girdling of the waist, then 
don a loose kimono." 

Half an hour later, when Mrs. Kerr entered 
the sitting-room, she looked cool and well. 




)LATE XVI. — A. The rush of cold water cooled walls and 
dows. B. Never leave the garbage can uncovered. 



HEALTH AND COMFORT 89 

" I did not believe a bath could work such 
wonders," she said. " I 've actually forgotten 
it is a hot morning." 

"A cool bath for overheated blood," said 
Mrs. Griswold, " is as necessary as the ice-bath 
to a typhoid-fever patient. Twice a day in 
hot weather is none too often to bathe, al- 
though some physicians forbid it. The folks 
of our household, big and little, follow the 
habit in very hot weather of jumping into 
a cold tub every night. Then, without using 
a towel, they go straight to bed cool and 
damp. It is a habit we learned from a friend 
who lived in India. There are a few other 
rules for sleeping well in hot weather," she 
continued. " Every one ought to have the 
luxury of a separate bed and an abundance 
of clean linen. During a torrid spell my 
family has an entire change of underwear 
three times a week. If we were richer I 
would make it an every-day change, — from 
undershirt to hosiery." 

" It makes the washing heavy," suggested 
Mrs. Kerr. 



90 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" It does. I economize, however, on some- 
thing else and send out extra washing. Now, 
I 'm going to invite you into your own dining- 
room for a breakfast I prepared while you 
people were busy elsewhere." 

"Isn't this tempting!" cried Margaret. 

" It certainly is," said her husband. " I 've 
suddenly acquired an appetite." 

The table was freshly linened and daintily 
set. A bowl full of ferns looked like a mem- 
ory of the green woods. On a large platter 
a musk-melon was daintily served. Beside 
them stood a plate of boiled eggs, a pitcher 
of iced coffee, crisp popovers, a jug of cream, 
and a dish of crisp, dry cereal. 

" I left my family sitting down to the 
table," said Mrs. Griswold, " therefore may 
I invite myself to breakfast? " 

" That will be a pleasure," said Robert 
Kerr, " added to the treat of such a break- 
fast." 

" I don't know how to plan hot- weather 
menus," said Margaret, while she helped the 
raspberries. " We 've been eating oatmeal 



HEALTH AND COMFORT 91 

with beefsteak or ham and eggs for break- 
fast." 

" I would forego such dishes if I were you 
— especially for breakfast — until cool au- 
tumn days begin. Allow Nature to plan your 
meals for you. From spring to autumn we 
have an abundance of fruit and vegetables, 
rich in the salts that arouse sluggish blood. 
Asparagus and rhubarb are real ' spring medi- 
cine ' ; then come other healthful vegetables 
and fruit. The fish, which are plentiful now, 
as well as spring lamb and spring chickens, are 
what we require for hot-weather food. For 
this reason, and partly for economy's sake, I 
seldom buy things which are out of season." 

" There is common-sense in that," observed 
Robert. 

" Then, about breakfast cereals. Oatmeal 
is a splendid breakfast food — in winter. The 
Scotch grow brawny on it, — only remember 
the thermometer never reaches ninety degrees 
in Scotland — besides, the people of that 
country digest their oatmeal by hard exercise. 
Therefore, select from among the multitude 



92 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

of American cereals something which is easily 
digested, — one of our delicious wheat prep- 
arations, or some flaky thing that requires no 
cooking. If one knows how to choose easily 
digested foods, the secret of keeping cool in 
hot weather is half mastered." 

"How did you boil these eggs?" asked 
JNIargaret. " They slip from the shells like 

jelly." 

" These were not boiled," said Mrs. Gris- 
wold. " When the water bubbled I put the 
gas out and dropped in the eggs. They stood 
in hot water for ten minutes. Eggs are 
cooked after this method in the hospitals. 
They digest in two hours." 

"Isn't that quickly?" asked Robert. 

" Yes, indeed. Recently at a cooking school 
lecture I saw a demonstration of how eggs 
are digested when cooked in different ways. 
They were dropped into tumblers filled with 
artificial gastric juice. In an hour and a half 
a raw egg had been digested, a coddled egg, 
as this method of cooking is called, took two 
hours, an egg kept hopping in boiling water 




jATE XVII. — A. Musk melon daintily served. B. A pitcher of 
iced cofee. 



HEALTH AND COMFORT 93 

for three minutes was digested in four hours, 
while a hard-boiled egg had scarcely been 
aiFected by the gastric juice in three days." 

" I '11 leave hard-boiled eggs alone in the 
future," said Robert. " Tell us more about 
healthful summer living." 

" Suppose I first suggest foods which had 
better be left alone. In spite of the tempta- 
tion offered by cherries, rhubarb, and berries, 
for pie-making, I cut pastry relentlessly from 
our summer menu. Nothing is so deathly 
indigestible as the soggy bottom crust of a 
juicy pie. Besides serving our summer fruits 
in all their delicious ripeness, one may utilize 
them in steamed puddings, in jellies, with 
custards, as ices and souffles, or in shortcakes, 
which are much more digestible than pie." 

" What about the first course of a meal? " 
queried Margaret. 

" An expert on dietetics omits from the 
summer menu all red meats. This is too 
stringent; a leg of spring lamb roasted, a 
fine juicy steak, bacon and calves' liver, or 
delicately broiled lamb chops, may be health- 



94 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

f ul as well as appetizing during the cool spells 
of summer. When the weather grows intol- 
erably hot, choose instead white-fleshed fish, 
chicken, sweetbreads, lobster, eggs, or such 
toothsome bits as corned-tongue or cold boiled 
ham. With the summer vegetables, which 
can be served either cooked or in salads, a 
wholesome as well as attractive table may be 
set." 

" It 's a great idea, this iced coffee for 
breakfast," said Robert, as he poured out 
another glass. " Yesterday morning I drank 
a cup of hot cofl*ee. It brought out a perspi- 
ration which lasted all the forenoon." 

" The right sort of breakfast," said Mrs. 
Griswold, emphatically, " insures the well- 
being and comfort of a whole day. A cool- 
ing breakfast in midsummer is as necessary 
as a warming breakfast in midwinter." 

" I have n't a doubt of it," said Robert, 
heartily. "If there are any other suggestions 
you can give about keeping cool, healthy and 
happy through the strenuous months, strike 
right out from the shoulder. We are ignorant 



HEALTH AND COMFORT 95 

young folks, who stand sorely in need of just 
the sort of advice you can offer." 

"Well" — Mrs. Griswold hesitated for a 
second — " there is something I have been 
wishing to speak about. It would be a great 
boon to your little wife if you could afford 
to screen the house properly. Mrs. Kerr spoke 
the other day about getting Arabian lace cur- 
tains for the parlor. The price of them would 
buy screens. Every day I see her driving flies. 
It is hard work in hot weather, still, every neat 
housewife will do it rather than endure a fly 
pest. Once I tried screens of the twenty-five- 
cent order, such as you have now. They do 
not fit; flies creep in at every crack and 
crevice. Beside the annoyance they are, one 
must take into consideration their pollution of 
food. Scientists have demonstrated that some 
of the diseases we most fear are brought into 
our homes upon the feet of flies." 

" 1 11 have the house screened immediately 
at any cost," said the young husband, de- 
cisively. 

" After it is screened," said Mrs. Griswold, 



96 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" you may find it a task to get rid of the flies. 
They will always seek the sunshine, so darken 
any room that is infested, leaving an outer 
room light. They will flock to a window or 
door where they may easily be driven out or 
killed. When they have been cleared out, 
take the greatest care to keep them away, not 
only from the house but from the doors and 
windows. Get a strong garbage pail with a 
tight-fitting lid and never leave it uncovered. 
After the visit of the garbage man, wash the 
pail with boiling water in which soda has been 
dissolved. Set it in the sun to dry before 
using it again. Never leave a bit of food un- 
covered in the pantry. When dishes cannot 
be washed immediately, put them in a pan of 
water till they can be attended to." 

" Occasionally," said Margaret, " the house 
grows damp after a muggy spell of weather. 
How can we dry it? " 

" We have the same trouble. Get a bag of 
charcoal and divide it into ten or twelve small 
bags. I make ours of mosquito netting. 
Drive nails into the rafters of the cellar ceil- 



HEALTH AND COMFORT 97 

ing and hang up these bags. Charcoal absorbs 
bad or mouldy smells. Make half a dozen 
cheesecloth bags and fill with slacked lime. 
Hang them about the walls where there are 
signs of dampness. The lime is such thirsty 
stuff it will absorb any dampness. Occasion- 
ally — when a cold day occurs during the sum- 
mer—light a wood fire in the furnace. Its 
heat dries the furnace and cellar, also damp 
walls and floors throughout the house." 

" There is one more thing," said Robert. 
" Won't you give my wife a bit of advice? 
She is working too hard." 

" I have thought of that," said Mrs. Gris- 
wold, kindly. " I did so myself when I went 
to housekeeping, till I discovered how foolish 
it was. Now — especially in hot weather — 
I give the utmost care to my health. The 
money paid occasionally for a bit of sewing 
or a surplus of laundry work is less than 
doctors' fees would amount to if I broke down. 

" Years ago, when the children were little 
and worrisome, I made a plan to which I have 
adhered closely. One Thursday, when my 



98 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

maid, care-free and happy, walked out to join 
her friends, the thought came to me: Does 
not the mistress of a household require a half- 
holiday as much as the maid does? She has 
certainly earned it. Next day I took a half- 
holiday. How funny that first afternoon off 
seemed! I took a car to a distant park alone. 
It was June and such a gracious day ! I found 
a lonely, delightful spot under the trees. I lay 
down watching the squirrels, sometimes read- 
ing a snatch from a favorite book of poems 
or listening to the rare sounds of the woods 
and the birds. When twilight fell I turned to 
the park restaurant. I ate supper alone — 
except for my book — at a table under the 
trees. The supper I had ordered instead of 
planned was such a treat! Afterward I took 
a long trolley ride. I reached home after the 
children were asleep to find my husband pac- 
ing anxiously up and down the piazza. He 
thought that outing was a tremendous joke. 
Every Friday I take my half -holiday off, no 
matter how much work is left undone, no 
matter if I have company." 




)LATE XVIII.— A. The treat of such a breakfast. B. Tram- 
form your piazza into an outdoor sitting-room.. 



HEALTH AND COMFORT 99 

"Where do you go?" asked Margaret. 

" To all sorts of places. You have been with 
me more than once. Occasionally to a matinee, 
or to tea in some pleasant, restful household; 
on a little trip into the country, with supper 
at a quiet inn. I never go calling or shop- 
ping, and when I seek a companion it is one 
who will soothe my nerves, not tire them." 

" Thank you," said Margaret, laughing. 

" I would advise you to do the same* thing," 
said Mrs. Griswold, earnestly. " I have 
thought of suggesting it when I have seen 
you spending long afternoons at the sewing- 
machine or in the kitchen. Let toil lie undone 
once a week; it will come out all the same in 
the day's work. Live outdoors all you possibly 
can. Transform your piazza into an outdoor 
sitting-room. When the sun goes down you 
might occasionally have tea in the yard, hidden 
from the street by that young peach-tree. 
Spread a small table with one of the crepe- 
paper cloths which are so cheap and pretty. 
Use paper napkins and wooden plates. The 
menu will require httle work; have sand- 

LOFC. 



100 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

wiches, fruit, and cake or cookies with lemon- 
ade or grape-juice." 

" I Ve envied you some of your delightful 
outdoor suppers," said Robert. 

" They were very simple, but children enjoy 
eating anywhere outside a dining-room. We 
are all grown-up children, and when the long- 
ing occurs for a freer, gipsy-like way of living 
we ought to carry it out. Our lives are cut 
short by conventionalism and the luxury of 
indoors." 



VIII 

CO-OPERATIVE HOUSEKEEPING AT THE SEASHORE 

" Where and how to spend a month's vaca- 
tion " had been the topic of discussion in the 
Griswold and Kerr homes. 

" We are tired of hotels and boarding 
houses " said Mrs. Griswold, " of dress-up re- 
sorts with their ballrooms, bowling-alleys, and 
thronged bathing beaches. There is an ideal 
place I have never found, where one can cot- 
tage in comfort, where there is no band-play- 
ing, no picnicking mobs, no trolleys, not too 
many neighbors, where one can live simply, 
cleanly, and quietly." 

" I 've discovered such a place," said Robert 
Kerr. " A friend of mine had rented a cot- 
tage at Juniper Point — " 

" Where is Juniper Point? " asked his wife, 
eagerly. 



102 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" Clear away from anywhere." 

"And what about your friend?" queried 
Mrs. Griswold. 

" His wife has been ailing, the doctor orders 
her to the mountains, now he wants to get the 
cottage off his hands." 

" How far away is it? Remember, there 
are six Griswolds to transport, bag and bag- 
gage. A trip to Maine or the New Jersey 
coast is out of the question." 

"Juniper Point is in Connecticut. The 
round trip from here is only two fifty." 

" That is certainly within our means, is n't 
it, mother? " laughed Mr. Griswold. 

The upshot of this discussion was that Red 
Top, the Juniper Point Cottage, was en- 
gaged for August at a rental of forty dollars. 
This included furnishings, except linen and 
silver, also a rowboat, clam-hooks, fish-poles, 
and crab-nets. Two days before the immigra- 
tion to the shore Mrs. Kerr, accompanied 
by Norah, left to get the cottage in readi- 
ness. She sent by special delivery on her 
arrival at the cottage an inventory of the 



SEASHORE HOUSEKEEPING 103 

furnishings to assist in a final selection of 
necessities. 

The odds and ends which the list suggested 
were packed in the final box, for a load of 
necessities had gone by freight a week ahead 
of them. In that first consignment went 
towels, a blanket for each bed, two down 
quilts, dish-towels, roller-towels, and dish- 
cloths, bed linen, various granite pots and 
pans, a chafing-dish, an oil-stove with its oven, 
hammocks, straw mats, piazza pillows, darn- 
ing and mending necessities, books and play- 
ing-cards, — aU provisions against rainy-day 
ennui or chill evenings. 

Juniper Point was far from marketing 
f acihties, so a box of groceries had been sent 
from a grocery store that gave a hberal dis- 
count on large orders. The box contained 
several strips of bacon, jars of dried beef, 
boxes of salt codfish, spices, soap, borax and 
ammonia to soften hard water, prunes and 
dried apricots, beans, baking-powder, dry 
yeast, rice, barley, cornstarch, crackers, boned 
chicken, salmon, cereals, spaghetti, macaroni. 



104 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

tea, coffee, tapioca, chocolate, condensed milk, 
extract of beef, pickles, olives, flavoring ex- 
tracts, canned vegetables and fruit, lard, gela- 
tine, honey, fly-paper, lemons, maple syrup, 
molasses, matches, salad oil, vinegar, popcorn, 
raisins, root beer extract, sugar, soda, sand- 
soap, and a barrel of flour. Mrs. Griswold 
planned her list of food necessities by study- 
ing in her expenditure book the food stuffs 
consumed in a month, adding to it propor- 
tionately for two more persons. She also 
studied her menu-suggester, jotting down in- 
gredients required in favorite dishes. Two 
trunks held all the clothing. 

" Dress is the smallest part of a summer's 
enjoyment," said the mother one day to Mar- 
garet, while they sewed on the piazza. " When 
we first went to the shore I took the children's 
shabby clothes along, that they might be worn 
out. Suddenly everything went to pieces; 
there I was with a brood of ragged young- 
sters on my hands, five miles from a drygoods 
store, and with no sewing-machine. A trip 
to the nearest city and twenty dollars spent 



SEASHORE HOUSEKEEPING 105 

on ready-made clothing taught me a lesson. 
Every summer I give away half -worn school 
clothes to poor city children, and have a dress- 
maker for two weeks in June to make sub- 
stantial seashore garb. I buy two pieces of 
fine denim, half of it dark blue, half a pretty 
cadet blue. From this I make two suits for 
each of the children and one for myself. For 
blouse-waists and shirt-waists I use gray and 
blue chambray, which washes well till it goes 
into the rag-bag. The girls and I have each a 
dress of blue and white seersucker, which re- 
quires no ironing. There are no frills or fur- 
belows on anything. Half a dozen pair of 
strong black stockings with white feet are 
provided for each one, and carefully fitted 
stout shoes." 

Such a ride it was that August morning, 
when the old stage horse turned its head 
toward Jumper Point, through a wild stretch 
of country where sweet fern tangled with 
blackberry vines and great trees threw their 
shadows across the grass-grown road. Then 
over a hilltop they passed to catch a first view 



106 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

of the ocean and a hamlet of cottages scat- 
tered along the rocky shore. 

Red Top was a comfortable cottage with a 
big living-room, a dining-room with a wide 
brick fireplace and roomy cupboard. The 
kitchen held a good sink, with soft water 
from a double-barrelled arrangement on a 
platform. In the second and third stories 
were six bedrooms. The house was clean and 
fresh, with wooden walls, bare floors, and 
simple furniture. The dining-table was long 
enough to seat a party of ten; it had a per- 
manent cover of snowy enamel cloth. After 
each meal it was wiped clean, so one item — 
tablecloths — was stricken from the laundry 
Ust. 

While the men and youngsters of the house- 
hold were turned loose for a jolly outdoor hfe, 
the mistresses of the cottage spent a day in 
getting everything into shipshape order. The 
food supplies had been unpacked by Mrs. 
Kerr and Norah, who arranged them in the 
dining-room cupboard. Canned goods w^ere 
stored on the lower shelves; paper bags with 



SEASHORE HOUSEKEEPING 107 

the contents written on each filled two higher 
shelves. The lemons were in a covered pail 
on the cupboard floor; beside it stood tin 
boxes of saltines, crackers, and ginger cookies. 
Tea and coffee were in tight-fitting canisters, 
salad oil in a half -gallon flask, molasses and 
vinegar in a demijohn, and sugar in a pail 
which held fifty pounds. 

That afternoon, when the cottage had been 
set in perfect order, the housewives adjourned 
to the wide, breezy piazza to plan a month's 
housekeeping. It was arranged that each 
should direct the simple affairs of the house- 
hold a week in turn. A table of rules was 
drawn up, printed on a large card, and hung 
in the dining-room. It ran as follows: 

REMEMBER THAT — 

Each one shall keep her own room in order, except 
for the semi-weekly sweep. 

The place for clam-forks, fish-poles, crab-nets, 
oars, and rubber boots is the shed. 

Every member of the Red Top family shall care 
for her own bathing suit, with shoes and stockings, 
whether wet or dry. 



108 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 



The piazza and sitting-room must be cleared each 
night of personal belongings. 

From the list of dishes hung in the dining-room, 
each one may choose three a week. 

Collections of shells, stones, and seaweed must not 
be left where they will be voted a nuisance. Flowers 
must be changed daily and vases washed. 

At the call of the horn the household must assemble 
for meals. Breakfast delinquents shall cook their 
own food and wash their dishes. 

The list of dishes was Margaret's idea. It 
suggested preparations which the storeroom 
and the twice-a-week marketing would allow. 
Opposite a favorite dish on the list a cross 
was set by each one when that one's turn came 
to indicate something he particularly liked. 
Here is a duplicate of the list: 



Black Bean Soup 
Beef Soup 
Tomato Bisque 
Clam Soup 
Pea " 
Oyster " 
Potato " 
Scotch Broth 
Clam Chowder 



Chicken Chowder 
Corn 

Steamed Clams 
Roasted " 
Creamed Oysters 
Scolloped " 
Oysters on Toast 
Fish Cakes 
Creamed codfish 




)LATE XIX.— A. Clams for one. B. Fish and 
had for patience and bait. 



to be 



SEASHORE HOUSEKEEPING 109 



Hash 

Beef Stew 

Corned Beef and Cabbage 

Lima Beans 

Ham and Eggs 

Creamed Frankforts 

Scrambled Eggs 

Creamed Chicken 

Hominy with Milk 

Mush and Milk 

Clam Fritters 

Milk Toast 

StuflPed Eggs 

Poached Eggs on Toast 

Stuffed Tomatoes 

Scolloped Salmon 

Omelet 

Green Com 

Com Oysters 

Shepherd's Pie 



Lamb Stew 
Frizzled Beef 
Hamburg Steak 
Chicken Pie 
Scotch CoUops 
Potato Salad 
Tomato " 
Lobster " 



Macaroni 

Beans and Brown Bread 

Baked Hominy 

Savory Rice 

Buttered Kidney Beans 

Sweet Potatoes 

Succotash 

Bice Pudding 

Tapioca Pudding 

Prune Whip 

Chocolate Blanc Mange 

French Pancakes 

Ginger Pudding 

Prune Jelly 

Indian Pudding 

Junket 

Pan Dowdy 

Baked Bananas 

Baked Custard 

Berry Muffins 

Spanish Cream 

Bread Pudding 

Lemon Jelly 

Graham Pudding 

Chocolate Souffle 

Baked Apples 

Apple Fritters 

Apple Dumplings 

Coffee Jelly 



110 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

Mrs. Griswold directed the housekeeping 
for the first week. The family went early to 
bed and rose early. Breakfast was over at 
eight o'clock and the house vacated, for old 
and young practically lived outdoors. The 
house was swept on Friday and Tuesday. 
Every morning the floors of the living-room, 
kitchen, and dining-room were washed. Norah 
learned from the maid in an adjacent cottage 
a country way of scrubbing, which she put 
into efl*ect. The apartment was cleared of 
furniture, then over the floor was thrown a 
pail of water. Into the mop a bundle of pine 
branches was fixed, and used instead of a 
scrubbing-brush. The broken green needles 
made a spicy odor which filled the house even 
when another pailful of water had been thrown 
on the floor and swept outdoors. There was 
little need for a drying mop; in half an hour 
the wind had swept the floor dry as a bone. 
Once a week every floor in the house was 
thoroughly cleaned with soapy water. Wash- 
ing was made as easy as possible, and nothing 
was ironed except gowns, handkerchiefs, and 



SEASHORE HOUSEKEEPING 111 

aprons. The clean clothes were thoroughly- 
shaken, neatly folded, spread between papers 
on the kitchen table, and on top of them went 
a large bread-board, weighted with stovelids 
and irons. Next morning they were smooth, 
snowy white, and fragrant with the salt odors 
which blew constantly across the Point. 

The cooking was as simple as washing 
and ironing, although appetites were fiercely 
hungry. The men and children brought in 
liberal supplies of sea food. The cost of 
clams was the digging; there were crabs for 
the catching, oysters were in plenty when the 
tide went down, fish and eels were to be had 
for patience, and blueberries and blackberries 
were more than plentiful. Marketing was 
done twice a week in the morning by boat. 
A creek two miles up the shore led at high 
tide into Bilford. The boat was tied up be- 
side a mossy pier, and half an hour later the 
marketers left with purchases of meat, butter, 
ice, lobsters, and fruit. Every morning Ray- 
mond and Frances Griswold rowed to a 
farmhouse across the bay for milk, eggs, and 



112 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

vegetables. The food was good and whole- 
some. Every second day a batch of wheat and 
graham bread and a big loaf of gingerbread 
were baked. There was no making of pies 
and cake; they involved too much labor. 
Coffee appeared only at the breakfast table, 
milk, lemonade, or water being the favored 
beverages. Every fine evening supper was 
eaten outdoors, sometimes on the rocks in 
front of the house; then the menu was roasted 
oysters, for there was a sheltered hollow where 
a fire could be built. When it was reduced to 
a bed of hot coals the oysters were heaped in a 
colander, attached to a long pole, and shaken 
gently over the red embers. As they popped 
open, the colander was handed around, and 
oysters disappeared to an accompaniment of 
bread and butter sandwiches, and coffee poured 
by Norah from a steaming pot. Sometimes 
the party rowed inland up a beautiful river. 
Then there were such picnics in the woods, 
with an abundance of sandwiches, plenty of 
milk to wash them down, and spicy ginger- 
bread. 




)LATE XX. — A. The children sat on the piazza husking corn. 
B. There were such picnics in the woods. 



SEASHORE HOUSEKEEPING 113 

For certain things which seemed to disap- 
pear as if by magic, Mrs. Griswold found it 
wise to prepare ingredients in large quantity. 
One of these standbys was flour ready for 
hot biscuit, which popped in the oven by the 
panful or, baked Scotch scone fashion on a 
griddle, made an acceptable bread between 
bakings. With eight pounds of flour she 
sifted four tablespoonfuls of salt and twelve 
tablespoonfuls of baking-powder. A pound 
of butter was rubbed into this till the flour 
looked like meal. It was kept in a jar at the 
back of the refrigerator. When needed in a 
hurry, six cups of the flour were wet with two 
and a quarter cups of milk and quickly 
moulded into biscuit. The same mixture, with 
an extra tablespoon of butter, frequently did 
duty for short-cake, appearing at the table 
heaped with blackberries or peaches and cream. 
Baking-powder, sugar, and salt were sifted 
in the proper proportions, with cornmeal and 
flour, ready to be transformed, with various 
additions, into a toothsome Johnny-cake. A 
boiled dressing, the usual recipe multiplied by 



114 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

eight, was kept in a glass can beside the ice, 
ready for a salad, when a few tablespoons of 
whipped cream had been beaten into the golden 

jelly. 

" Nobody would imagine this household was 
made up of two families," said Margaret, one 
morning, while the childi'en sat on the piazza 
husking corn. " The housekeeping wheels go 
round as if they had been oiled." 

" That is because we divide it evenly," said 
Mrs. Griswold. 

The work of the cottage did not faU upon 
Norah and the pro tern, mistress alone. The 
men and the children did their share. Mr. 
Griswold and Mr. Kerr never delivered fish, 
oysters, or clams till clean and ready to cook. 
They kept the dooryard raked up and cared 
for the garbage can, which had to be emptied 
in the sea at high tide. They carried water 
from the pump, which supplied half a dozen 
cottages. Frances and the eight-year-old 
Polly dusted the living-rooms, cared for the 
lamps, filled salt and pepper-pots, and husked 
the corn. 



SEASHORE HOUSEKEEPING 115 

The close of August came quite too soon, 
and the household looked forward with regret 
to a return to town; for there had been a 
month of such joy of living, such healthful- 
ness, such happy, helpful companionship as 
could scarce be measured. 

" Just think, Rob," said Margaret, while she 
strolled along the beach with her husband on 
their last evening at Juniper Point, " we bal- 
anced accounts last night, and it has cost only 
six dollars a week for each of us." 

" I tell you, little woman, it is great returns 
for the expenditure." 



IX 

HOUSECLEANING BEGINS 

"What! Housecleaning already?" asked 
Margaret Kerr, one breezy morning. Mrs. 
Griswold was hanging clothes on the line. 
Nor ah was washing windows. 

" Cool weather arrived early this month," 
answered the neighbor. " I 'm taking advan- 
tage of it to begin cleaning. Last autumn 
we were late in getting at work, and the fur- 
nace had to be started before we were half 
through." 

" Have you dumped the entire wardrobe of 
the household outdoors?" Mrs. Kerr laughed, 
while she pointed to a heap of clothes on the 
grass. 

" I 've emptied bureaus and closets of every- 
thing. I might have looked them over in- 
doors, but it is such a cheerful day I enjoy 
being out. Besides, I can find, in the search- 




PLATE XXI. — A. Grandma can sew the rags for a carpet in 
weeks. B. These shelves hold piles of magazines. 



HOUSECLEANING BEGINS 117 

ing sunlight, stains which would otherwise es- 
cape me. It also takes a good deal of dirt 
out of the house; wearing apparel collects 
such an astonishing amount of grit." 

While she talked she sorted things into piles. 
" This lot," she explained, " are the girls' thin 
frocks, which may help out their next sum- 
mer's wardrobe. I am looking them over to 
see if they need mending, then I '11 have them 
washed and packed away rough-dry and un- 
starched. These thin woollen clothes I am 
examining for stains which yield to gasoline 
or ammonia. When every spot has been re- 
moved I will give them a thorough brushing, 
let them hang all day in the sun, then fold 
and pack away. This heap of worn-out under- 
wear and cotton things I will tear into con- 
venient pieces for window rags, dusters, and 
cloths for cleaning paint. The pieces of old 
linen can be cut into strips for broad and 
narrow bandages, then I will sterilize them 
and put them away sewed into bags of cheese- 
cloth till they are required for sickness or an 
accident." 



118 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

" Is this the ragbag heap? " asked Margaret. 

" No. A year ago I visited the exhibit of 
Deerfield industries and saw some beautiful 
rugs, which sell at high prices. They were 
nothing but rag carpet, only it was rag carpet 
made artistic. First the rags are dipped in a 
vegetable dye which never fades. I will use 
brown made from fresh black walnut bark. 
Everything from grays to white cotton will 
come from the dye-pot olive browns in all 
tones. Then it is cut into very fine strips and 
sewed." 

" Are you going to sew them yourself? " 

" No. I will give the job to an old lady 
who is in need of work. She can sew the 
rags in two weeks. It costs twenty-five cents 
a yard to weave the carpet. I have material 
enough to make rugs for the sitting-room and 
two chambers; they will wear like the tradi- 
tional iron. We have just finished the attic. 
I am going up there now; would you like to 
see how I arranged it? " 

Mrs. Kerr followed with an armful of 
clothes which were ready to pack away. At 



HOUSECLEANING BEGINS 119 

one end of the attic was Mrs. Griswold's 
study. She led the way to it first. 

" I have had shelves built here," she ex- 
plained, "to hold piles of magazines which 
covered a corner of the floor and made sweep- 
ing an impossibility. At one end I have saved 
space for boxes of all sorts. Here I had a 
tool shelf built." 

" This is splendid," cried Margaret. 

It held all sorts of tools that a woman could 
use, — a hand-saw, a hatchet, screw-drivers, 
and hammers. There were also hooks and 
nails of every sort, screws and tacks in a par- 
titioned box. 

" My tool bench used to be downstairs. It 
was really handier there, only things were con- 
tinually being borrowed and never returned. 
Now there is no excuse for Nor ah or one of 
the children or my husband — he is a delin- 
quent as often as any of them — saying they 
do not know where things are kept." 

On the wall behind each of the tools was 
painted its outline in India ink. 

" Things never wait now for a carpenter 



120 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

or the man of the house," said Mrs. Griswold. 
" One day I went to a hardware store and told 
the clerk I would buy five dollars' worth of 
tools if he would show me how to use them. 
I learned how to put in a screw and how to 
take it out, how to use a gimlet and a monkey- 
wrench. I have a little of everything here." 

She pointed to the lower shelf. It held a 
bar of solder and a soldering-iron for mend- 
ing leaks in pots or wash-boilers, a roll of 
electric tape to wind about leaking pipes or 
hose, putty, and a glazier's knife. There were 
paint-brushes of varied sizes, a glue-pot, paints, 
varnishes, stains, enamels, floor polishes, wax 
and oils, turpentine and driers, sheets of sand- 
paper, plaster of paris, upholsterer's and cob- 
bler's needles, cement, a scissors sharpener, 
— almost the outfit of a man-of -all-work's 
bench. 

" How did you ever think of trying such 
work? " queried Margaret Kerr. 

" One day I reckoned from my expense 
book that twenty or thirty dollars a year go 
out for small repairs. I watched the work- 




\LATE XXII. — Here I have my tool 



my tool corner. 



HOUSECLEANING BEGINS 121 

men who came to do odd jobs, — the paperer, 
who filled holes in a chipped wall with plaster 
of paris, then covered it with paper; the man 
who put in a pane of glass ; the plumber, who 
mended a tiny leak or opened a choked pipe. 
Thus I learned how to do such work myself. 
I am teaching Raymond to make himself use- 
ful; he can put in a pane of glass or solder 
a leaking pot as well as a professional. Oc- 
casionally I hand my husband a bill for the 
tinkering done about the house; he pays what 
he would if a glazier or plumber came. This 
spring Raymond earned the two dollars we 
always gave the man to put in window screens 
and doors. It makes the boy independent; 
besides, I am training a good husband for 
some woman." 

"Would you begin with the attic when 
housecleaning? " Margaret asked. 

" Clean one room at a time. Our grand- 
mothers used to make a mighty upheaval each 
spring and autumn. We, with our bare floors 
and rugs, light furniture and better facilities 
for work, can do the cleaning of a house on 



122 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

a quiet instalment plan, instead of having a 
great hurlyburly. If it is possible, take all 
the furniture out of a room you are cleaning. 
Have the bed taken apart, brush it with a 
whisk broom and wash it. Put the mattress, 
pillows, spread, and blankets in the sunshine. 
Let me suggest to you how to dress. I had 
tripped and fallen from stepladders and had 
my skirts draggled and soiled till one spring 
I grew desperate. I donned gymnasium 
bloomers over a short-sleeved blouse with a 
sailor collar. I wear the most comfortable 
house-shoes I know, — a pair of gynasium 
slippers." 

" Do I require special tools for house- 
cleaning? " 

" Come downstairs and see our outfit. It 
may suggest things you do not have." 

In a closet stood a step-ladder, brooms, and 
dust-pans, mop-pail, and a mop with rags in 
it, a long-handled window-brush, a broom cov- 
ered with a slip of gray cotton flannel, a rat- 
tan rug-beater, a drawer filled with bundles 
of cheesecloth, old silk and chamois, pumice- 




\LATE XXIII. — A. Raymond puts in screen doors and window 
screens. B. Wear gymnasium slippers when house cleaning. 



HOUSECLEANING BEGINS 123 

stone, furniture polish, ammonia, whiting, 
borax, and linseed oil. 

" What an assortment of stuff ! " exclaimed 
Margaret. 

" They are all necessary for the proper 
cleaning of a house. If you have never 
cleaned a room, let me tell you how to begin. 
Take down the draperies and shades, then 
carry out pictures, furniture, and rugs. Close 
the doors and open the windows. With the 
flannel-covered broom go over the walls and 
ceiling. I use a painter's four-inch bristle 
brush to get the dust off mouldings and ledges, 
afterward cleaning them vnth a cheesecloth 
duster. Wipe the dirt from the window- 
frames. Lift the registers, spread a news- 
paper on the floor, and brush out the dirt on 
it. Clean the hot-air pipe with a damp cloth. 
Now begin to sweep with short perpendicular 
strokes and take up the dirt. While the dust 
is settling clean the woodwork. The interior 
of your house is finished with natural wood, 
which is much easier to care for than a painted 
surface. Search for soiled places and clean 



124 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

them with a woollen rag moistened in tur- 
pentine. Mix equal parts of turpentine and 
paraffin oil and rub it into the wood. A dry- 
woollen cloth and elbow grease gives the sur- 
face a fine polish. Wash the painted floor 
of the chambers with warm water. Do not 
use soap or a scrubbing-brush that removes 
the paint. Now wash the windows." 

"With the long brush Nor ah is using?" 
asked Margaret. 

" That is not the first job. We begin by 
cleaning the shutters. Sometimes after one 
has just washed the windows there comes a 
rain storm, and the glass is as dirty as if it 
had never been touched. It is not dirt in the 
air, the rain has washed the dust from the 
shutters. Before we touch the windows I 
close the shutters and turn the hose upon them, 
first opening, then shutting the slats. After- 
ward they are thrown open, and every window 
has a good flushing from the hose. Clean the 
outside first, then the inside. Wash the wood- 
work, using a skewer to pick dirt from the 
corners. Have a pailful of tepid water soft- 



HOUSECLEANING BEGINS 125 

ened by ammonia. Polish with clean soft 
cloths and tissue paper. For the last polish 
we use a chamois ball. It is made from scraps 
of chamois ; any old skin may be cut in shreds. 
String it bead fashion with a darning-needle 
and a bit of twine, then tie tightly together. 
The chamois ball can be washed in soapy 
water and dried. It lasts for years, and pol- 
ishes glass as nothing else will do. There are 
many finishing touches in housecleaning, such 
as washing gas-fixtures and globes, dusting 
picture- frames, polishing furniture, and clean- 
ing mirrors." 

" How do you keep your polished floors in 
such fine condition? " 

" By the aid of a weighted brush. It is 
dropped on a waxed surface and pushed back 
and forth till the floor begins to take on a 
fine polish. At first it moves hard, but after 
being pushed back and forth a few times it 
slides easily." 

" You spoke of furniture polish," said Mar- 
garet; "what kind do you use?" 

" Our druggist puts it up," said Mrs. Gris- 



126 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

wold. " But first wash furniture which is 
overcast with finger marks. If upholstered, 
give it a smart brushing to bring out the dust. 
Wipe the woodwork with a cloth wrung from 
warm milk. Soak a woollen cloth with the 
furniture polish, shaking it first — then polish 
with cheesecloth. Here is a formula for the 
polish: One gill of powdered rottenstone, one 
gill of cold drawn linseed oil, one gill of tur- 
pentine, one gill of naphtha, one gill of strong 
solution of oxalic acid, one gill of alcohol, one 
gill of cold water to which a tablespoonful 
of sulphuric acid has been gradually added. 

" Keep the bottle corked. This mixture will 
remove white stains from a polished, painted, 
or varnished surface. Yesterday I noticed 
you did some energetic scrubbing of your en- 
amelled sink. Did you get it clean? " 

" Not wholly," answered Margaret. 

" Try kerosene on it," advised Mrs. Gris- 
wold, " then wash thoroughly with soapy 
water. I keep a wooden skewer above the 
sink, twist a bit of rag about it and clean 
every ledge and crevice. Afterward fill the 




)LATE XXIV. — Use a weighted brush, for polished floors. 



HOUSECLEANING BEGINS 127 

dish basin several times with boihng water and 
thoroughly flush the sink and waste pipe. 
Three times a day we pour five or six gallons 
of hot water through the sink pipes. Dish 
water generally holds liquid grease, which 
coagulates when it reaches the cold pipes. To 
this sticky lining particles that get through 
the drainer attach themselves; the result is 
clogged pipes and a plumber. Once a day 
Norah pours down a pint of hot solution of 
washing soda. This dissolves the grease, the 
flood of hot water carries it away and leaves 
the pipes clean." 



X 

LAYING IN THE WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 

" How much of that surplus housekeeping 
money can you afford to spend this month? " 
asked Mrs. Griswold one afternoon while Mrs. 
Kerr helped her to darn stockings. 

" I have forty-three dollars laid away," said 
the young housewife, proudly. 

" Do you feel as if you ought to use it 
now? " 

" I '11 squander it any time on your advice," 
she answered laughing. 

" I will not suggest squandering," said the 
older woman. " In fact, I had planned to 
help you save money." 

" How? " 

" I 'm going down street to-morrow to lay 
in my winter's supply of food. The larger 
amount one can spend, the cheaper pirices are. 
By purchasing co-operatively we can both save 



WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 129 

money. My grocer telephoned to-day that new 
canned fruits and vegetables are in, as well 
as a fresh stock of all sorts of goods. I buy 
in large quantities every autumn. He gives 
me the lowest prices and the best goods. You 
can make your forty-three dollars go as far 
as fifty-three, if judiciously spent. Although 
I beUeve in patronizing a small surburban 
market, it is exactly the opposite with a 
grocery. You may easily guess why. The 
store which has large sales keeps the freshest 
goods, because the stock is cleared out 
quickly." 

"Aren't there some groceries better pur- 
chased in small quantities?" 

*' Yes, such things as cereals, graham flour, 
corn meal and dried fruits grow mouldy or 
wormy in warm weather. During the winter 
they spoil less easily. In cold weather one can 
store such things as lard, oil, and butter, but 
in summer they might grow rancid." 

The visit to the grocery was very inter- 
esting. Mrs. Kerr wandered off to gaze at 
rows of delectable canned things, little button 



130 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

mushrooms and plump truffles, stuffed olives, 
golden jellies, French marrons, maraschino 
cherries and shell walnuts. 

"Dear! how these dainties make me wish 
I were rich," she sighed. 

" Yes, indeed," laughed Mrs. Griswold, 
" only people with simple appetites and whole- 
some digestions must pass them by. Come, I 
want to introduce you to my groceryman. 
He knows his goods thoroughly and is honest. 
You are always sure of good treatment and 
courtesy from him." 

"Don't you lose customers?" asked Mar- 
garet, when he classed something they had 
chosen " inferior goods." 

" I don't lose such customers as Mrs. Gris- 
wold," he answered, " she knows too well 
what 's what." 

Their order seemed to Mrs. Kerr extensive 
enough to feed a boarding house family. She 
said so to her neighbor. 

" I am reckoning on your household using 
one-fourth of everything; the remainder is 
no more than I usually purchase. Many of 





1*1,1 mi; '■ ' 











}LATE XXV.~A. One afternoon Margaret helped her friend 
darn stockings. B. Meat chopper grinding crumbs. 



WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 131 

these goods will carry us over till next 
autumn." 

They bought tea by the ten-pound box, un- 
ground coffee by the sack and bacon by the 
strip. Canned salmon, sardines, boned chicken, 
tomatoes, corn and peas were ordered by the 
case. 

" Our sojourn at the seashore," said Mrs. 
Griswold, " and busy days which followed our 
return, destroyed my chance of putting up 
August fruits, — peaches^ pears, plums and 
green gages. I do not know if I would have 
canned them had I been at home. Last fall, 
these fruits were very expensive, so I pre- 
served few of them. I mentioned this to the 
groceryman and he introduced me to such a 
splendid brand of California fruits that I 
almost decided never to can any more peaches 
or plums. I could not rival their luscious 
flavor, or preserve them in such excellent 
shape. Besides, when one considers the cost, 
the waste and work in putting up peaches, 
the gas consumed in preserving them, and the 
wear and tear on one's strength during a hot 



132 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

month, I believe they are cheaper at eighteen 
or twenty cents a can — what they cost by 
the case — than if I preserved them myself." 

" Here is the brand you had," said the 
grocer, " nothing in the market touches it. 
Every peach or plum is perfect in shape and 
the light syrup, while sweet enough, does 
nothing to detract from the flavor of the 
fruit." 

" I will be glad to have part of a case," 
said Margaret. " We are so fond of them." 

" The can is rather large for your small 
family. You can pour what you do not use, 
however, into a pint jar and seal it tight; it 
will keep for a week." 

The young housewife watched and listened 
while her neighbor made the purchases. She 
learned to distrust a can of fruit or vegetables 
which was dented or misshapen. 

" You will find its contents spoiled," said 
Mrs. Griswold, decisively. " Besides, its price 
gives it away — something must be wrong 
with green peas which sell for eight cents a 
can." 



WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 133 

She learned that good flour had a pleasant 
odor, and a slightly yellow tinge, that bread 
flour crumbles away in a mealy fashion when 
a handful of it is unclasped, while pastry flour 
remains in a smooth lump. 

That afternoon the grocery wagon made a 
special trip to the Griswold house. 

" This looks hke a grocery store," said Mar- 
garet when she stepped into the kitchen. 

" It does seem like a big store of food for 
two f amihes, but wait till next summer, then 
see how it will have vanished. Raymond will 
carry your goods across the yard in his express 
wagon. Robert can store them away for you 
when he comes home. I had nothing deHvered 
at your house except the barrels of flour and 
sugar, a sack of coffee and a can of saltines. 
A discount is given on one big order so we 
wiU divide everything that can be weighed, 
measured or counted." 

Mrs. Kerr's division of the order consisted 
of five pounds of tea, a dozen cans of boned 
chicken, two strips of bacon, a ham, one dozen 
boxes of sardines, one dozen cans of salmon. 



134 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

half a gallon of salad oil, six bottles of olives, 
six bottles of pickles, twelve cans each of 
peaches, pears, blue plums, green gages, corn 
and, peas, six bottles of grape juice, six jars 
of beef extract, six packages of cornstarch, 
ten pounds of rice, five pounds of tapioca, half 
a bushel of beans, half a case of macaroni, 
five pounds of cocoanut, a dozen packages of 
gelatine, one box of soap, two bars of castile 
soap, a dozen packages of washing powder, 
ten pounds of washing soda, two boxes of 
starch, five pounds of baking powder, six 
bottles of ammonia, six cans of stove polish, 
twelve packages of saleratus, three pounds 
of candles, twenty pounds of salt, a dozen 
packages of matches, five pounds of prunes, 
twelve pounds of raisins, and a gallon of 
molasses. 

" Well," said Margaret, when she saw her 
purchases piled up ready for transportation, 
"the problem now is, where are they to go? 
My pantry is full already." 

" I 've had that in mind," said Mrs. Gris- 
wold, " and I would suggest that you turn 



WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 135 

into a store-room the closet which opens off 
your dining-room." 

" That 's a great idea. It is no earthly use 
now. All sorts of things get tossed into it, 
and it collects a lot of old rubbish. Only I 
can't put everything on the floor." 

" No, but Robert is a good amateur carpen- 
ter. My husband will lend him a hand. He 
can fit up the closet with plenty of shelves, 
leaving space for the sugar-barrel. Draw on 
us for things to store your groceries in. In 
the attic I have a collection of biscuit tins, 
imperfect fruit cans, and stone jars. To- 
morrow I will run across and help to settle 
the store-room." 

When the closet was in spick and span order 
Mrs. Kerr gazed at it with real housewifely 
content. On tin boxes and cans she had pasted 
labels; one could see the contents of glass 
jars. Tea and cofl*ee were stored in tightly 
covered canisters. Oil was decanted into pint 
bottles and securely corked, one bottle being 
set in the refrigerator for inmiediate use. The 
bacon and ham in their canvas wrappers were 



136 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

hung under the lowest shelf. Rice, tapioca, 
barley, beans, cocoanut, soda, and prunes were 
stored in glass jars and tin pails, while pack- 
ages, cans, and bottles, were set in separate 
blocks, with the names outward so one could 
see at a glance what was what. At one end 
was " a kitchen corner," as Mrs. Kerr called 
it, where were stored ammonia, starch, wash- 
ing-soda, stove-polish, candles, and matches. 

" The soap should be dried in the attic be- 
fore it is used," advised her neighbor. " Polly 
will be dehghted to pile it up log-cabin fashion 
for you. Soap that is thoroughly dried lasts 
twice as long as when damp and soft. My 
plan is to keep the pantry supplied from the 
store-room. When a jar begins to go low I 
refill it. If you follow this plan there will 
be no necessity for constant visits to the store- 
room. Cover everything tightly, and if any- 
thing gets spilt, sweep it up at once; this is 
the only way to avoid an invasion of mice." 

That evening, when bills were footed up, 
Mrs. Kerr discovered she had eight dollars 
left. " Put it away," advised her neighbor. 



WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 137 

"till it becomes twelve or fourteen, then you 
will have enough to buy the winter's stock of 
vegetables, apples, and butter. These supplies 
I purchase late in October from an old farmer. 
I have dealt with him for nine years ; he gives 
us the choicest of everything at the same price 
he gets from the stores. Every autumn I put 
up forty dozen eggs, by storing them in a 
water glass preparation. They keep in good 
condition till spring." 

Mrs. Kerr had saved fifteen dollars before 
the end of October. It purchased butter, eggs, 
potatoes, apples, and root vegetables. 

Mr. Griswold showed Robert how to make 
cellar bins for storing vegetables. In the bot- 
tom of one was put a lot of dry sand, on which 
the potatoes were heaped. 

" Leave this bin empty at the right of it," 
advised Mr. Griswold. " Occasionally during 
the winter potatoes must be picked over ; some- 
times they rot slightly or sprout. Keep an 
empty barrel beside your apples for the same 
purpose. They should be examined once a 
week. A decaying apple will rot a peck 



138 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

around it. Carrots, parsnips, turnips, and 
beets should be stored among sand. Cab- 
bages and squash we keep on a shelf where 
ventilation can reach them. Onions I tie into 
strong paper-bags and hang from nails in the 
rafters." 

The butter was put up in lots of ten pounds 
each, packed sohdly in stone jars and covered 
with a piece of wet cheesecloth full of salt. 
Mrs. Griswold declared against the wooden 
tubs in which it was delivered. 

" I always empty them," she said, " and 
repack the butter into jars. Sooner or later 
it will taste of the wood. My way of using 
it is to lift the salt out once a week and scoop 
several pounds of butter into a small jar. I 
pack the top of the large jar level, then lay 
in the salt again." 

Late in October there came a spell of wet 
weather which kept people in the house. This 
allowed Margaret a few leisure afternoons. 
She gave the time to what she had long wished 
to do, — a number of small jobs which would 
lighten labor when work was hurried. Half 



WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 139 

a box of salt codfish was cut with the kitchen 
shears in flakes large enough for creaming, 
and packed into a glass jar. She took the 
broken bread which had accumulated, removed 
the crusts, and dried it in a slow oven till light- 
brown and crisp. It was put through the finest 
knife of the meat-chopper and sifted. The 
meal-like crumbs were put in a jar and la- 
belled "For Croquettes," while the coarser were 
saved for scolloped dishes. She made a quart 
of mayonnaise, with Frances Griswold to help 
her. The yolks of four eggs — left over from 
making snow-cake — were dropped in a deep 
bowl and mixed with two teaspoonfuls of mus- 
tard, two teaspoonfuls of salt, two teaspoon- 
fuls of powdered sugar, a dash of red pepper, 
and a teaspoonful of vinegar. The bowl was 
set in a plate filled with cracked ice, and while 
Mrs. Kerr turned a large egg-beater, Frances 
poured in salad oil, at first drop by drop, then 
in a thin stream. As it thickened, a quarter 
of a cupful of vinegar and the same quantity 
of lemon juice was added by teaspoonfuls. 
When three cupfuls of oil had been beaten 



140 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

in, the mayonnaise was of a fine, creamy 
consistency. 

Among other rainy-day tasks she stoned 
raisins and cleaned currants, drying them 
thoroughly in a cool oven. She grated choco- 
late for pudding or frosting, and put dry 
cheese scraps through the meat-chopper, to be 
used for macaroni dishes. She rubbed a quart 
of lard into three quarts of salted pastry flour 
and set it in a covered jar, ready to be mixed 
with ice-water when required — for pie crust. 
She made lemon syrup, boiling four cups of 
sugar with a quart and a half of water for 
twenty minutes, then adding two-thirds of a 
cupful of lemon juice. It was bottled and set 
away for lemonade or for a jelly. 

Mrs. Griswold had taught Margaret how to 
make onion butter, a flavoring so handy and 
delicious for sauces and rechauffes that she 
prepared a tumblerful every month. She cut 
seven onions into slices and put them over a 
slow fire with a cupful of butter. The heat 
was strong enough merely to brown and shrivel 
the onion, not to blacken it. The flavored 



WINTER'S FOOD SUPPLY 141 

butter was strained into a jelly tumbler and 
covered. 

Browned flour — which is nothing but flour 
heated in a spider till dry and brown — she 
prepared by the pint and set away in a cov- 
ered jar to keep for future use. 



XI 

Margaret's thanksgiving dinner 

"Dear, grateful little woman," said Mrs. 
Griswold, while she read a note which had 
come in the morning's mail. 

" What is it? " asked Frances. 

"An invitation for Thanksgiving." 

" From whom? " cried the family in chorus. 

" Listen," said the mother. 

" Dear Neighbor, — Do you realize what you 
stand for in this family ? — a gentle sympathizer, a 
patient, kindly teacher of wholesome living and true 
economy. Robert and I want to show our gratitude. 
Be our guest on Thanksgiving Day with your house- 
hold and any friends you have planned to invite. 
Let me serve, unaided, a dinner that will make you 
proud and make me happy. 

" Your pupil, 

" Margaret Kerr." 



THANKSGIVING DINNER 143 

" We '11 go," said Mr. Griswold. 

" But," his wife hesitated, " Grandma, 
Grandpa, Uncle Tim, and Sally are coming." 

" Margaret added ' and company.' She 
means what she says; the bigger the crowd, 
the more she will enjoy it." 

" I guess you 're right," she responded. 
" I '11 run over and accept." 

She had accepted and stood saying good-by, 
then she turned: 

" The ultimatum is I am not to help ? " 

" Not a hand's turn," answered Margaret, 
laughing. 

" Can't I send Norah here for the fore- 
noon? " 

" No," laughed Margaret again. " I 'm 
selfish; I don't want to divide up the credit 
of this dinner with even Norah." 

" All that is required of us, then, is simply 
to accept and to arrive at two o'clock?" 

" There, now, you understand," said her 
neighbor. 

Margaret Kerr started Tuesday morning 
for the market. She had written her menu 



144 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

and marketing list; she knew just what she 
wanted and where to get it. Here is the din- 
ner she intended to serve: 

Oyster Soup. Saltmes. 

Celery. Salted Almonds. 

Roast Turkey. Cranberry Jelly. 

Mashed Potatoes. Squash. 

Creamed Onions. 
Chicken- Pie. 
Lettuce Salad. Toasted Cheese Sandwiches. 
Pumpkin, Mince, Apple Pie. 
Cup St. Jacques. Macaroons. 

Fruit. Nuts. Raisins. 
Wafers. Cheese. Coffee. 

Mrs. Griswold's teaching was to Margaret 
what the lessons at school are to a child. It 
had led to deeper study, not found in books. 
Every time she visited a market she learned 
something from the man behind the counter 
or some customer skilled in housewifery. 
Sometimes she visited a place of interest 
about the city, — a natural ice plant, a flour- 
mill, a cold storage warehouse, a canning fac- 
tory, a bakery, a wholesale fruit house, a big 
market-garden, or a country creamery. She 



THANKSGIVING DINNER 145 

attended a series of lectures on hygiene and 
dietetics; she was learning to put into prac- 
tical use some of the studies of her college 
days. 

Her first task on reaching the market was 
to choose a hen turkey weighing fourteen 
pounds. The skin and flesh were white, the 
legs black and smooth, the breast was broad 
and plump, while the neck was short. The 
breastbone was pliable, which showed youth. 
Its weight betokened good feeding and a 
delicate flavor. She picked out two chickens 
with firm flesh, smooth, yellow skins, feet and 
legs which were free from scales, and with 
breast-bones which were cartilage. The let- 
tuce she bought was the Boston variety, with 
fine outside leaves and a head as solid as a 
small cabbage, having plenty of heart, creamy 
tinted, crisp, and curly. She chose the most 
expensive cranberries in the market. They 
were like rich-hued rubies, solid, large, and 
spicy. The oranges she judged by their 
weight and their thin skins; bananas she se- 
lected because they were small and unspotted, 



146 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

and walnuts for their clean shells and 
weight. 

When Robert arrived for luncheon her pur- 
chases were unwrapped and laid on the kitchen 
table. He whistled when he saw them. 

"Great layout, isn't it? But, say, little 
woman," and his voice grew serious, " don't 
you think you had better engage somebody 
for Thursday? " 

" Rob, don't," she pleaded. " I want to get 
the dinner myself." 

" I suppose you know the old joke about 
company sitting down at table with a roasted 
hostess." 

" Nonsense," she cried, " it 's a parboiled 
hostess. You '11 find a very cool hostess, I 
can assure you. Besides — I have engaged a 
woman — " 

" Good." 

" To wash the dishes," added his wife. " I 
should go crazy with her asking constantly 
what she will do." 

" Still, I 'm relieved on the score of the 
dishes. Now, may I offer my services for 
Thursday morning? " " 





\LATE XXVII. — A. Somethijig new in a crust. B. She had 
found an old-fashioned recipe for pumpkin pie. 



THANKSGIVING DINNER 147 

" I '11 accept them till you begin to grow 
wobble-headed; then you are discharged in- 
stantly." 

Margaret did all she possibly could on 
Wednesday, saving only what had to be last 
tasks for Thanksgiving morning. The al- 
monds were shelled, covered with boiling 
water, and allowed to stand for a few mo- 
ments till the brown skins were loosened, then 
they were rubbed clean between coarse towels. 
Margaret knew their delicate flavor was ruined 
by frying them in oil or butter, as is frequently 
advised in cook-books. She put the almonds 
in a pan, dusted them lightly with fine salt, 
and set them in a moderate oven, shaking them 
occasionally till delicately browned. She made 
the cranberry jelly, putting a quart of the 
berries in a covered saucepan with a cup and 
a half of boiling water, to cook sl6wly for 
twenty minutes. The fruit was rubbed 
through 'a fine strainer; a pint of sugar was 
added to it; after five minutes' cooking it 
was poured into a wet mould and set in the 
cold pantry. Crust for the pies was made and 



148 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

set on the ice. The pumpkin filhng was pre- 
pared; mince meat had been made early in 
the month. A foundation for cup St. Jacques, 
which is a glorified lemon-ice, was prepared. 

The base for the ice she prepared by mak- 
ing a syrup from one quart of water and 
two cups of sugar, boiled for twenty minutes. 
When it cooled, three-quarters of a cup of 
lemon juice was added, then it was strained 
and set away till ready to freeze. 

Preparing the turkey was the most strenu- 
ous task. The bird had been cleanly picked, 
but there remained numerous long hair-like 
feathers, which she singed over a saucerful 
of burning alcohol. Afterward she washed 
the bird thoroughly, rinsed it under cold water, 
and wiped it dry. She cut the head off at 
the throat, leaving a long neck. The tendons 
had to be removed to make the dark meat more 
tender and juicy. She located where they lay 
in a hollow behind the leg, and cut the skin 
carefully. She slipped under one tendon the 
point of a knife-sharpener, holding firm the 
upper part of the leg. The tendon gave till 



THANKSGIVING DINNER 149 

it lay like a loop over the skewer. One strong 
pull brought it out without tearing the flesh. 
When eight had been taken from each leg, 
she made a gash down the turkey's neck, cut- 
ting the skin to the bone. She folded it back 
over the breast and lifted out the crop care- 
fully. The turkey was turned on its back, 
then a cut was made at the end of the breast- 
bone large enough to admit her finger and 
thumb, which loosened the intestines at the 
back and brought out the gizzard, heart, and 
liver. She took the greatest care not to break 
the gall. The lungs and kidneys were re- 
moved, the windpipe pulled away, and the oil- 
bag — a tiny gland which lies over the tail — 
was cut out. Mrs. Griswold had once im- 
pressed on her the necessity of removing this. 
" Few cooks know of its existence," she said. 
" It is the reservoir of thick oil which you see 
a bird peck at when it smooths its feathers. 
Often, while eating turkey at a hotel, I have 
tasted the disagreeable flavor of the oil-bag 
in the gravy." 

Mrs. Kerr washed the turkey in cold water. 



150 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

then she dried it and set it away. The neck, 
gizzard, heart, and Hver she cleaned and set 
in a saucepan to stew, for the chopped giblets 
were to be added to the gravy. The chickens 
were prepared exactly like the turkey, then 
cut in twelve pieces, — second joints, drum- 
sticks, wings, the back in two pieces, and the 
breast in four fillets. They were put to stew, 
covered with boiling water. Half an onion, 
a sprig of parsley, a bit of bay-leaf, half a 
tablespoonful of salt, and a generous dust of 
pepper were added as seasoning. When nearly 
tender, they were lifted from the gravy, it 
was thickened with flour and water and cooked 
till reduced to a quart. 

Breakfast was over early in the Kerr house 
Thursday morning. Robert helped energeti- 
cally, from putting extra leaves in their small 
dining-table to freezing the lemon-ice. Mar- 
garet's first task was to set the table. Robert 
suggested chrysanthemums for a centre-piece. 
" They are beautiful," his wife answered, " but 
they cost money. Instead, bring me some ferns 
and oak leaves I saw yesterday in the woods. 




}LAT,E XXVIII.— A. Margaret singed the turkey over a saucer 
of burning alcohol. B. The chicken was cut in twelve 'pieces. 



THANKSGIVING DINNER 151 

I can press out the leaves; they will arrange 
beautifully." 

The table was simple but artistic. The red 
brown of the autumn leaves made a fine con- 
trast against the dark ferns. Margaret used 
the largest leaves for dinner-cards, with her 
guests' names lettered in gold, and her choicest 
glass and silver. 

When the dining-room was in order, she 
returned to the kitchen to stuff and truss the 
turkey. She put in the dressing by spoonfuls 
at the neck, filling the skin so the fowl might 
look plump when roasted. She trussed it by 
folding the skin of the neck close to the 
breast-bone. The wings were tucked neatly 
down, and with a single stitch the skin was 
fastened into place. The legs were folded 
close to the side, a trussing-needle with strong 
cotton was run through the body, brought back 
over the leg- joint, and tied securely. The 
drumsticks were tied and fastened securely 
to the rump. 

At ten o'clock the oven was allowed to be- 
come thoroughly hot, then she set the turkey, 



152 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

breast down, upon a rack in the dripping-pan, 
rubbed all over with a creamy mixture made 
from half a cupful of butter mixed with five 
tablespoonfuls of flour. It was dusted with 
salt and pepper, and the bottom of the pan 
was dredged with flour. During the first hour 
of roasting, when the oven had to be quite hot, 
Margaret baked her pies. She had found in 
an old-fashioned cook-book a recipe for pump- 
kin pie similar to directions given by modern 
books, except that as the top of the pie began 
to grow firm a cup of thick cream was poured 
over it. Margaret's common-sense taught her 
that before the cream was absorbed the rim of 
crust would be burned, so she covered it with 
a round of buttered paper. When the pies 
came out she poured a cupful of boiling water 
into the dripping-pan and basted the turkey 
frequently. At eleven o'clock the lemon-ice 
was frozen hard. Within an hour Margaret 
had accomplished a number of tasks, — thin 
slices of bread were sandwiched with a cheese 
mixture ready to be toasted, the celery and 
lettuce were cleaned, the squash had been 



THANKSGIVING DINNER 153 

steamed and seasoned, a crust was made for 
the chicken-pie, cheese was cut, bread sKced, 
— everything was ready to set on the table. 

At one o'clock Margaret put the potatoes 
and onions to cook, then she ran upstairs to 
dress her hair and get into a company gown, 
which she covered with an all-over apron. 
Fifteen minutes later she was in the kitchen 
getting the chicken-pie ready for the oven, 
making a cream sauce for the onions, scalding 
the oysters before adding them to hot milk, 
mashing potatoes, and putting the last touches 
to the table. Then she hfted the turkey to its 
platter and made a gravy, to which the giblets 
were added. 

One of the drawbacks of the gas-range, 
which had not yet been replaced by the coal- 
stove, was its lack of a warming closet. 
Margaret overcame this by setting the four- 
teen-inch oven over a burner at the back of 
the stove and keeping it hot. It held one set 
of plates after another, the onions and gravy; 
the turkey was set on top. The potatoes and 
squash were kept warm in double boilers. 



154 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

When her company entered the dining-room 
Margaret stood waiting to receive them. No- 
body would have guessed, to look at the hostess 
in her pretty gown, that she was cook and 
waitress. In the window stood a low buffet 
holding the dishes for the later courses. The 
pies were there, the salad on a tray, with its 
condiments, a plate of macaroons, nuts, raisins, 
and fruit, cheese, wafers, and sugar and cream. 
On the sideboard were dishes for two hot 
courses, also cranberry jelly and celery. The 
plates were removed quickly, and the hostess 
was back again in her seat. 

When Margaret set the chicken-pie on the 
table, Mrs. Griswold exclaimed: 

"What, something new in a crust?" 

" No, something old," laughed Margaret. 
" Years ago, when I was in boarding-school, 
I went with my roommate to her country 
home for Thanksgiving. I remembered the 
chicken-pie. Instead of a thick crust with a 
steam vent in it, there was a lid of brown 
biscuits laid closely together." 

"Yes," said Mrs. Griswold; "it is delicious 
and beautifully light." 




tLATE XXIX.— A. The skin of the neck folded back, the wings 
tucked in and the legs folded close to the side. B. A loiv bufet 
held the dishes for the later courses. 



THANKSGIVING DINNER 155 

At the end of the dinner, while Robert 
drank a cup of coffee, he turned to Mrs. 
Griswold and proposed the following toast: 

" Here 's to our guest, our mentor, our 
friend. Into this house she brought cheer, 
comfort, and happiness. The world would be 
filled with peaceful homes if every young 
couple in the experiment of housekeeping 
could discover such a patient, gracious, sym- 
pathetic, practical, neighborly neighbor. Some 
day we may prove our indebtedness, — we 
cannot speak it." 



XII 

THE CHEISTMAS GIFTS OF A COOK 

" Ajll Christmas presents? " asked Mrs. Gris- 
wold one evening when she entered the Kerrs' 
cosey sitting-room. 

Margaret was pinning names upon jaunty 
sofa-pillows, delicate bits of embroidery, and 
other odds and ends. 

" Yes, I 've nearly finished Christmas things. 
My list is full except for a few people who 
have been kind to us. I cannot spend much 
money, yet I want to remember Robert's sten- 
ographer and Copperfield, the book-keeper." 

"Where do they live?" 

" They board at the Ayres'." 

" That is n't a genial place for Christmas. 
Take them a nice little plum pudding for 
dinner, piping hot, with a pitcher of brandy 
sauce. I have a fine old English recipe." 

" That 's a great idea," cried Margaret; " it 



CHRISTMAS GIFTS 157 

suggests another. Why not make things to 
eat for people who would appreciate them, — 
people who board or do their own work, or 
live on bakery stuff? " 

" I '11 join with you," said Mrs. Griswold, 
heartily. " I, too, have unremembered people 
on my list." 

"What shall we make?" 

"Let us jot down a list of eatables which 
can be transported picturesquely. Plum pud- 
dings with a sprig of holly tied to them, cream- 
filled ladylocks, candy, a box of pates, ready 
to be filled with creamed chicken or oysters, a 
cake, a pie, or a tumbler of mayonnaise." 

Mrs. Griswold and Margaret spent three 
days before Christmas preparing toothsome 
gifts they had planned. The first thing was 
the making of puff paste. 

" Put on a warm jacket," suggested Mrs. 
Griswold. " I Ve got to open the windows 
and work in a chilly atmosphere. If pufF 
paste gets warm it is ruined." 

" How do you make it in summer? " 

"I never make it; puff paste is too rich 



158 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE , 

to be digested in hot weather. Now for 
operations." 

She scalded a large yellow bowl, then chilled 
it, and went through the same process with 
her hands. She dropped the butter in the 
bowl and let cold water run on it while she 
worked it. 

" Why all this labor? " asked Margaret, 

" I could not have fine flaky crust if the 
salt were left in the butter. You see it does 
not stick to my hands or the bowl. That is 
because they were washed in hot water, then 
in cold. Now the butter is waxy, so I must 
get all the water out of it." 

She turned the bowl upper side down, pat- 
ting the butter till not another drop of water 
flew from it, then she moulded it into an ob- 
long piece, reserving a small slice which she 
said would measure about four tablespoonfuls. 
She sifted the flour in the bowl, rubbed in 
with the tips of her fingers the slice of butter, 
then wet with ice water tiU she had a light 
dough. 

" I brought with me something which is 



CHRISTMAS GIFTS 159 

better for rolling pastry than a board." She 
shook out a square of canvas and spread it on 
the table; then she slipped on the rolling-pin 
a cover of stuff like knitted webbing. Into 
the grain of both fabrics she rubbed flour, 
shaking what was superfluous into the barrel. 

" Nothing can stick to this now," she said. 
" Good puff* paste must have enough flour in 
it, but not too much. The moulding cloth as- 
sures you of that." 

She folded the dough into the floured mould- 
ing cloth and left it for five minutes to 
mellow. When she spread the cloth on the 
table she rolled and patted the dough till it 
had become a strip with square ends. The pat 
of butter was laid in the centre of this strip 
and the ends brought over envelope fashion 
and pinched tightly together. 

" That is done to enclose air," Mrs. Gris- 
wold explained. " You know how puif paste 
looks, flake above flake. It is the air you en- 
close which raises the pastry. As I roll it you 
will see." 

Wherever she found the paste growing 



160 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

moist or the butter breaking through she 
rubbed flour into the moulding cloth and roll- 
ing-pin cover. With gentle little pats it was 
rolled again into another long strip, then folded 
and rolled again, always with the ends toward 
the centre, making the paste three fold. After 
four rollings it was set outdoors till perfectly 
hard. When well chilled it was rolled half an 
inch thick, and with a fluted cutter a number 
of rounds were cut for bottoms of the pates. 
The small cutter-shaped rings were brushed 
with cold water and laid on top of each other 
to build a well for filling. Small rounds left 
by the cutter were baked for lids to each pate. 
Twenty-five minutes in the oven brought them 
out, crisp and brown. 

" The ladylocks are an old-fashioned 
dainty," said Mrs. Griswold. " My grand- 
mother used to make them from trimmings of 
her pie crust. Filled with jam or whipped 
cream, we thought them a delectable morsel. 
I brought Granny's old irons to bake them on." 

She cut from the trimmings of paste a long 
narrow ribbon, and, beginning at the small 




}LATE XXX. — A. Molding cloth and rolling pin cover. B. Lady 
locks, pates and a pie form. C. Utensils necessary when mak- 
ing fondant. 



CHRISTMAS GIFTS 161 

end of a buttered horn, wound it over and over, 
bringing the edges together till the iron was 
covered. They were baked brown, brushed 
with white of egg, dusted with granulated 
sugar and returned to the oven. For a pie 
form a deep pie plate was buttered on the 
outside and turned upside down on the mould- 
ing cloth. A round of paste was laid over it, 
fitted down neatly and then cut around the 
rim. It was pricked with a fork before bak- 
ing, and came from the oven crisp and brown. 

" Now for our fondant," said Mrs. Gris- 
wold, as she set the pastry to cool. 

" Fondant is the foundation of all fine can- 
dies. We will use the marble top from the 
table in your sitting-room. Here are the 
scales for weighing our sugar, a paddle to beat 
the syrup into fondant, a fork and glass meas- 
uring cup half filled with cold water for test- 
ing the syrup." 

Mrs. Griswold set a saucepan on the scales 
to weigh, into it went two and a half pounds 
of granulated sugar, a quarter of a teaspoon 
of cream of tartar and one and a half cups of 



162 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

boiling water. The sugar was stirred till it 
melted, then the saucepan was set on the stove 
and heated till the syrup came to the boiling 
point. There was no further stirring. Mrs. 
Griswold occasionally dipped a fork in the 
bubbling liquid and dropped it in the cup of 
cold water. When the tiny crystal drops were 
a soft paste, which could be moulded between 
her fingers, she carried the saucepan to the 
slightly oiled marble slab and poured the boil- 
ing syrup in narrowing circles till it almost 
reached the edge of the marble. When it 
ceased to run it was stiffening about the edges 
so it could be rolled over. Mrs. Griswold took 
the wooden paddle and using it scraper fash- 
ion turned the hot syrup over and over. It 
began to grow opaque, then white. In five 
minutes the paddle was laid aside, she was 
kneading with quick, vigorous movement, as 
if the fondant was bread dough. Presently 
it lay under her hands snowy and soft. 

" This must be laid away till to-morrow," 
she said. " It should stand twenty- four hours 
before it can be moulded. The last job is plum 



CHRISTMAS GIFTS 163 

pudding. I always imagine it has a finer 
flavor when the ingredients stand over night." 

The bread-pan was used for mixing. Into 
it was thrown one pound of currants, one 
pound of raisins, one pound of finely chopped 
suet, half a pound of brown sugar, four 
ounces of almonds, blanched and shredded, 
four ounces each of shaved citron, lemon peel 
and orange peel, one teaspoonful of salt, one 
grated nutmeg, one teaspoonful of ginger and 
cinnamon, half a teaspoonful of clove, and one 
pound of flour. This was tossed together, 
then over it was poured eight beaten eggs, the 
juice of one orange, one cup of brandy, and 
milk enough to make a batter, so it could be 
stirred. And vigorous stirring it got from 
Margaret and Mrs. Griswold. 

"Why does it need so much stirring?" 
asked Margaret, as she laid down the 
wooden spoon. 

" It is partly obeying superstition," said 
Mrs. Griswold. " I had a British grandmother 
who presided over the making of a plum pud- 
ding as if it were a rite. She said it would 



164 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

never digest unless it were stirred by every 
member of the family. I doubt if it is all 
superstition; for a plum pudding to be at its 
best must be thoroughly blended." 

Next morning the pudding had another 
energetic stir, then it was put into buttered 
moulds ready for steaming. As the puddings 
were destined for small families, baking- 
powder cans were chosen to cook them in. 
For the Copperfields one was steamed in a 
crinkled mould. They were set in a steamer 
over a kettle of water which boiled steadily 
for five hours. Plenty of water was poured 
in before the puddings were set on; for, as 
Mrs. Griswold explained, " if the water should 
siop boiling for two minutes we would have 
puddings which were sticky instead of rich 
and crumbly." 

" Now for our candy," said Margaret, as 
she brought out a bowlful of creamy fondant, 
and the various things which Mrs. Griswold 
had ordered, — an abundance of parchment 
paper, several jars of colorings, bottles of 
flavoring extracts, pecan and walnut meats. 




pLATE XXXI. — A. Pastry bat) and icing. B. Pliim pudding with 
J- garnish of lump sugar. C. Bonbons on a crystal plate. 



CHRISTMAS GIFTS 165 

a rich skinned orange, a saucer of cocoanut, 
two figs cut into shreds, a stick of angehca, 
candied cherries, and blanched almonds. 

" The first job is to flavor and color small 
portions of the fondant," said Mrs. Griswold, 
" for rolling centres. You see it has solidified, 
so we can cut it. It cannot be reduced again 
to creaminess or it will not harden. Therefore 
the amount of flavoring I will put in each 
lump of fondant must be very small." 

She lifted from the bowl a heaping table- 
spoonful of fondant and put it in a saucer. 
She poured into a teaspoon a small portion of 
raspberry extract and added enough coloring 
to transform it to a bright pink. This was 
mixed in and the fondant was transformed to 
a delicate pink. 

Another batch was tinted pale green and 
flavored with pistachio. A pale-yellow batch 
had the grated rind of an orange for flavor- 
ing; to the fondant which was left white was 
added a few drops of vanilla. Pieces the size 
of a hickory-nut were flattened and wrapped 
around a filling, half a candied cherry, half 



166 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

a pecan or walnut, a shred of fig or an 
almond. After being rolled they were dropped 
on parchment paper to dry. " When these 
harden we will dip them," said Mrs. Griswold; 
" meantime we will convert the fondant that 
is left into peppermint drops." 

The fondant was put in a bowl and set in 
the mouth of a tea-kettle — not to melt but 
to become creamy. Six drops of oil of pep- 
permint were added to it and beaten well, and 
dropped on parchment paper where it quickly 
spread out into disks and hardened. Mrs. 
Griswold used a two-tined fork for dripping. 

" Confectioners and cooking teachers," she 
said, " dip with a copper wire twisted to a loop 
at the end. I used that till one day with a 
fine brand of olives came this tiny fork, its 
tines turned over into claws. I hammered 
them flat. I have never used the copper wire 
since. ISTow watch; you can learn the dipping 
process in a second." 

Mrs. Griswold brought from the stove a 
small double boiler, the mouth of which held 
a bowlful of creamy hot chocolate. 



CHRISTMAS GIFTS 167 

" This sweet dipping chocolate," said the 
teacher, " you can buy at a confectioner's for 
thirty-five cents a pound. This chocolate is 
too thick; a tablespoonful of oil will make it 
right." 

She added the oil and began work. She 
dropped a centre of fondant in the chocolate, 
then fished it out again, its flat side uppermost. 
It was dropped bottom side down on a sheet 
of parchment paper. The chocolate began to 
thicken. As the fork was lifted lingeringly 
it left the marks of its tines on top. 

*' That smaU irregularity," said Mrs. Gris- 
wold, " is a sort of trade-mark. It dis- 
tinguishes fine hand-dipped candy from the 
brand that is machine-made and machine- 
dipped. On some we will drop a scrap of 
ornament, on others blanched almond or a 
shred of angeHca. It must be done, of course, 
before the chocolate sets. Sometimes I crum- 
ble candied roses or violets. Color your fon- 
dant pink, flavor it with rose, dip it in 
chocolate, and then sprinkle with candied 
rose-leaf crumbs." 



168 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

"Will we have time for the cake?" asked 
Margaret. 

"Yes, I think so. We can follow our 
favorite snow-cake recipe. There are whites 
of eggs left over from the mayonnaise. I 
brought a pastry bag to decorate it." 

Margaret watched eagerly the frosting. 
Mrs. Griswold dropped the whites of three 
eggs in a bowl and added two tablespoonfuls 
of confectioner's sugar, beating it with a 
wooden spoon. A cup and a half of sugar 
was added gradually with a few drops of 
lemon juice between to moisten it. When the 
frosting was so thick that it remained parted, 
Mrs. Griswold spread it over the cake. While 
Margaret held the pastry bag, she scraped in 
the frosting that remained. It had been col- 
ored pink, and when forced in delicate pink 
roses here and there about the white surface 
the effect was very attractive. 

"Where can I buy a pastry Bag?" asked 
Margaret. 

" Save money by making one," suggested 
her neighbor. " It will cost you twenty- three 




}LATE XXXII. — A. Dipping candies in chocolate. B. Bits of 
holly went on every gift. 



CHRISTMAS GIFTS 169 

cents. Buy a twelve-inch square of rubber 
cloth, fold it from two opposite corners, and 
stitch on the machine. You have a triangular 
bag. Cut off the point and insert a tin pastry- 
tube, then it is ready for a task like this, or 
for garnishing with whipped cream or mashed 
potato." 

That evening the Christmas gifts were 
wrapped. The plum puddings were folded 
in paraffin paper, then in holly-green tissue 
paper, and tied with narrow ribbon, red as 
holly berries. Into a dainty bow on top was 
tied a spray of beautiful holly. The flaky, 
fragile pates were packed carefully in pretty 
boxes and wrapped up plum-pudding fashion. 
The candy receptacles were ordinary candy 
boxes, covered inside and out with holly-green 
tissue paper, tacked in place with library paste. 
The bonbons were laid, with paper partitions 
between them, in the neatest possible fashion. 
Every box was tied with scarlet ribbon and 
adorned with a holly sprig. - 

In the clear, brilliant cold of Christmas 
morning there were a score of pleasant errands 



170 MAKING OF A HOUSEWIFE 

to go, and a score of times a " Merry Christ- 
mas " was spoken. 

Which was the most heartfelt? One that 
was spoken when a young couple crossed a 
snowy yard. He carried something wrapped 
in brown paper which looked like a rocking- 
chair. She held something wrapped in tissue 
paper. 

Mrs. Griswold met them at the door with a 
" Merry Christmas." 

" A Merry Christmas ! " cried Margaret. 
" I bring my love, my gratitude, and appre- 
ciation, not on a silver salver, but on a crystal 
plate. Tucked away into the heart of these 
sweets lies my first bonbon, — a poor, de- 
formed, freakish thing, badly dipped and lop- 
sided. A year ago I was like that unshapely 
bonbon; to-day — if I am somewhat like the 
sightlier, smoother, more gracious ones — I 
have you, good friend, to thank for it." 

"Ah," said Mrs. Griswold., with a laugh, 
"consider how heartfelt is the satisfaction of 
a teacher over such a pupil! " 



NOV 19 1906 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




012 543 517 8#^ 



